Wish You Were Here
by Chaylay23
Summary: Gus is forcing himself to move on while Shawn is hopelessly stuck in the past. Sequel to "Sending Postcards from the End of the World" Shawn/Gus Gus/OMC
1. Fourth Best

_Wish You Were Here_

_"When we were children we played out in the streets_

_When we were children we'd say that we don't meaning of fear."_

_-OneRepublic  
><em>

About 5 years ago…

"Shawn, do you ever think about your future?" Gus asks, sprinkles sticking steadfastly to his left cheek. Shawn just stared at him. It seemed he was always staring at Gus. Gus figured it was because he was always saying something lame or stupid and normally that was okay but now Shawn's staring made something strange and quaky rise up in the pit of Gus' stomach. When it wasn't making him stumble over his own feet, it made Gus feel like he was on the verge of either throwing up or think about doing something ridiculous like grabbing Shawn's face and-

"My future? What you mean like my astronaut career? Well Gus, I figure in a couple of years your head will have gotten so big that I could just stuff you feel of helium and ride that baby to outer space." He joked and Gus' glare did nothing to stop his cackling. After a moment of nothing but the sounds of their feet crunching grass below them, Shawn gave in. "No, I guess. Why?"

Gus eyed him cautiously; he was unsure of the can of worms he was about to open. Watching for the impending letdown, Gus explained. "I wanted to know what you're going to do when we grow up. Where you'll be going to college, where you'll be living for the rest of your life. I just thought we should get it out of the way now before."

"Before? Before what? Before the calendar hits the year 2000 and we all burn to death or the earth explodes? Is that what you mean, because if everything goes according to my plan we'll be long gone to the planet Flyron by then." Shawn grinned sharply and Gus almost felt comforted except that he didn't. Not yet; he had to get this out.

"Before life gets too serious." Gus tried, seeing that he still hadn't quite gotten his point across.

"Gus, we're twelve. Life's not 'sposed to get serious for another decade." Flinging an arm across Gus' tense shoulders, Shawn pulled him close enough to count Gus' eyelashes. He had resented how Gus had reached twelve so untouched by life but times like these, when he was truly allowed to _look,_ he felt nothing more than protective over Gus. Like it was his job to stare and make sure nobody else could.

Gus took the time to process what Shawn had said and decided to take it for what it was. This crazy, chaotic friendship had taught him living in the moment was okay sometimes, especially when the alternative might bring something he couldn't handle. This was easier.

So he let Shawn lead him down the block, blabbering on and on about the benefits of Tang all the while knowing he was unprepared.

There was no doubt in his mind that Shawn would leave Gus one day and when that day came, Gus wanted to be ready.

* * *

><p>Present…<p>

"You don't seem to get it, Winnie. He's not a child; he's a grown man. We can't just keep him here forever and hope that if we raise him right he'll leave on his own."

Gus sighed and leaned his forehead against the front door. His bags sat on the porch steps a few feet away from where Shawn sat drinking a beer and seemingly ignoring that Gus had ever existed. Gus had mistakenly locked his knees a while ago and now it hurt to stand but the alternatives were pretty shitty. Either stand there leaning against the door listening to his parents fighting or he could go sit down next to Shawn and pray he didn't break the glass bottle over his head. Whichever one he chose ended with a headache.

"He's going through a tough time right now, honey. His whole life has changed and who are we to judge how he chooses to deal with it?" Gus' mother argued and Gus had to admit that she did have a good point. Everything had changed. He took the few hesitant steps towards where Shawn sat lost in seemingly impenetrable thoughts. As he sat down on the creaking wood of the bench, he tried to slow his rapid heartrate. He hadn't seen Shawn since that night in his room, not even the day he left for Stanford, and now they were sitting only a few inches away. It hurt just to breathe and it felt easier not to try.

Shawn eyed him expectantly, almost challenging him before shaking his head, dismissive. He returned his gaze to the end of his bottle and Gus' mouth went dry.

"Gus got into Stanford, baby. It's not like he moved across the entire country. It's hours away, not weeks—" Mr. Guster argued, and by the weakness in his voice that his wife was sure to win.

"He can stay here as long as he wants."

"But—"

"As. Long. As. He. Wants." Gus knew that tone, his father had better give up now or get used to making his own meals for the next few nights. There were a few whispered sentences so Gus figured the argument was pretty much over. He picked up his bags and hesitantly opened the front door, avoiding eye contact as Shawn stood behind him. There was a second when the breeze blew just right and Gus was wrapped in Shawn's scent, beer, smoke and oddly enough the sickly sweet scent of sugar. He wanted to turn around and memorize that smell ; those next steps forward felt like splitting himself in two.

"After you." Shawn muttered, cursing when their shoulders bumped. At the wince on Gus' face, Shawn fought his guilt in forcing himself to remember sitting in the middle of broken chipped and faded green plaster and the stern cold returned.

* * *

><p>"Baby! You're home!" Mrs. Guster pulled Gus into a hug so tight it was a wonder he could breathe through the smell of her perfume and the smell of the delicious roast in the oven. She made it just the way Gus liked with carrots and potatoes; Shawn had helped. "Come in, come in. You have to tell us about your first year—what'd you do? What classes did you take? Did you meet any new people?"<p>

Gus' father came closer and laid his arm across Gus' shoulder. "Let's get some food in him first. I'm sure he's tired from his trip home." And with that he steered them all towards the living room, Shawn pushing himself to follow behind.

Dinner was incredibly awkward, even after Joy arrived ten minutes in. Joy was watching Shawn pretend to ignore that her brother was blatantly staring at him, the Gusters were obviously not speaking to each other and Shawn… Shawn was silent and the sight.

"So, Joy, how's your job? You still doing that internship with Richard and Shepherd?" He eyed his wife sitting across the table. "Must be nice to be employed like most adults in America."

Mrs. Guster didn't skip a beat as she cut into her food. "Yes, yes, it must be. Joy, honey, don't you think your father could greatly appreciate some help around the house while he's taking time off to watch his health?" The lightness to her tone definitely implied she wasn't looking for an answer.

"Sweetheart, don't you think we shouldn't be talking about this over dinner?" Mr. Guster shot back and now Gus was honestly confused.

"Mom, Dad, what's going on?" Gus and Joy asked simultaneously, their parents refusing to look at each other.

"I'll tell you what's going on. Your father is being a stubborn, overgrown child." She stood up and threw down her napkin. "His cardiologist told him months ago, _months_ ago, that he needed to take some time off work for his health and he waits to tell me until I hear about it in a voicemail. A voicemail!"

Refusing to lift his eyes from his plate, Mr. Guster added, "You shouldn't have heard about it at all. I told you I would check the messages." It was dead silent as Mrs. Gusters typically kind, gentle eyes narrowed so much that her pupils were barely discernable.

Joy, Shawn and Gus shared a nervous look and started to back away from the table. Shawn had just tentatively pushed his chair back when Mrs. Guster gave him a chilling glare. "Don't you dare leave this table until you've finished your food. All of you, sit!" They sat.

Mr. Guster tried again, sensing his wife was about to explode. "You're being unreasonable. It was really more of a suggestion, not an order."

"Well I don't care what it was; you're taking time off of work and letting us help you." Mrs. Guster demanded, aware that Shawn was picking at his food, trying to stay out of the conversation. Gus, rather than worry about his father settled on making animal shapes out of his mashed potatoes.

Giving in, Mr. Guster slumped over his plate and muttered to himself, but loud enough that his wife heard every word. "I raised two kids and just when I thought I'd finished with the last one you give me another one to take care of?"

"Oh, Bill, I wish. I wish that was my intention." She straightened her dress and gave a tight smile. "No, no, no, no, no… Shawn's going to be here taking care of you since you can't seem to grow up enough to do it yourself."

The remainder of dinner was a quiet affair except for the occasional question about how Gus was doing at Stanford. During the answers to these questions, Shawn picked at his food and avoided eye contact to give the illusion that he wasn't hanging on Gus' every word. And when their glances locked by bad timing, Shawn could only hope his eyes were cold enough to disguise the stupid, futile nervousness that having Gus' eyes on him again had caused.

With Shawn having moved into Gus' room and Mr. Guster turning Joy's room into an office two years ago, Gus was given the couch in the living room while Joy was given the pull-out in the office. After laying out blankets and sheets, Gus was sitting in the empty living room when Shawn found him. He didn't bother asking for permission before sitting down next to Gus on the couch.

He knew exactly why he couldn't fall asleep but he didn't know why he'd been drawn downstairs after a night of avoiding Gus as best he could. Maybe he just had terrible willpower or Gus' attention was some kind of drug. Even when he tried to convince himself that he didn't want it, that it was bad for him, some part of him kept coming back for the kick, the high.

They each studied the various pictures lining the walls and mantle piece before the silence started to feel daunting. Gus was thinner, he seemed taller, he seemed more confident just standing there than Shawn had felt since that night. Suddenly a part of him felt furious, bruised, incomplete; like Gus had taken the best parts, the amiable parts, of Shawn for himself. Gus had the nerve to be fucking better off without him. Biting back the urge to claw and tear the soft skin of Gus' arms just within his reach, Shawn tried to swallow this down.

"So…" Gus began, glancing at Shawn out of the corner of his eye. Shawn shrugged in return and bit the side of his lip before scolding himself. He never used to have nervous habits, those were for Gus.

"So…" Shawn sarcastically repeated. "How's college really going?" Internally he cringed, knowing that while getting Gus to talk about something would loosen the tightness in his stomach but it would make the urge to break the boy next to him worse. He wanted to strip him down, see if Gus had scars the same way he did. And if not, he wanted to make them, but more than anything he just wanted proof that he hadn't made up their entire relationship.

As if reading Shawn's mind, Gus' eyes dropped to his lap. Gus swallowed thickly in deciding what to give away. Finally, he settled on the truth. "Terrible. I love my classes and my teachers are great but…"

"But?" Shawn tried not to sound too satisfied. He'd already assumed Gus was lying to make him feel better. It wasn't working; Shawn still wanted to crush him for trying… the only difference was he maybe wanted to kiss him first.

"It's not like high school at all. There, I was brilliant, the best at most of the things I did. But at Stanford… it's like I'm fifth best. Not even second but _fifth_." He breathed out and turned to find Shawn closer to him on the couch than he'd thought. The fact that he hadn't noticed they'd been inching closer made him pause for a moment and he stuttered in thought. "I'm just used to being the best and now that I'm not- I feel like I don't know who I am anymore. Everyone else around me seems to have it all figured out but me… well I'm just undecided."

Forcing a smile turned grimace, Shawn clenched his fist at his side and supplied, "I'm sure they're all freaking out just as much as you are." He paused, contemplating, "Actually I'm not. You tend to have pretty catastrophic freak outs… from what I remember anyway." Gus broke eye contact and studied Shawn's hands.

"I just don't know how much longer I can keep trying to pretend I'm not completely lost out there." Gus admitted, choosing to ignore the feel of Shawn pressed tight to him from hip to shoulders. He didn't know and he didn't care how it had happened. He could barely admit to himself that he'd missed the feeling and surprisingly Shawn's visible annoyance wasn't enough to extinguish the sheer ridiculousness.

"Gu- _You_ do not get to decide to quit just like that. You don't get to." Shawn objected, talking rather than whispering into the quiet room.

Gus shook his head and began to argue. "Shawn—wait what?" Shawn gripped Gus' head in his palms and looked him straight in the eye, adamant. The brown in his irises seemed to gleam with the message that Gus better listen to everything he had to say.

"Don't you dare. All of this—living here, missing you and being angry at you all at the same time—sometimes I thought I couldn't take it, but I did for you because you're worth it."

"I know you think that—" Gus started before Shawn cut him off.

"I know that. Don't tell me I went through all of this just so you could quit after a year."

"I haven't decided to quit, yet."

"Good, you can't. I won't accept it." There was no room for objection in Shawn's tone and if it had been under different circumstances, Gus might've acknowledged the odd hooked feeling in his gut. He laid down and Shawn buried his face in his palms. Gus pensive, Shawn quelling his own anger. They sat like that for a while, savoring just breathing the same air until they both fell asleep, Shawn gathering Gus in his arms. It almost felt like nothing had changed, except everything had.

* * *

><p>The morning Gus left to return to Stanford was harder for Shawn than the day he left the first time. At least that day Shawn had been so angry and hurt he'd stayed in Gus' room buried in the closet hopelessly gluing shattered plaster pieces together. At least that morning he'd expected to wake up alone. He hardly remembered falling asleep next to Gus on the couch, only that he slept better than he had since before Gus left. Waking up alone underneath sheets that smelled of the expensive cologne Gus had gotten one Christmas from Joy, he'd felt like he deserved the wounding pain behind his ribs. He knew what to expect and he'd hoped anyway like a brainless child touching a hot stove and then having the nerve to cry when he got burned.<p>

Instead of getting out of bed to help Mrs. Guster make breakfast like he usually did, he rolled over further into the leftover warmth and took deep breaths to avoid the scream threatening to erupt. After ten minutes, Mr. Guster entered the room, his eyes scanning the tell-tale signs that he'd slept on the couch all night. Rather than give Shawn the lecture he'd been expecting, the veteran lawyer simple shook his head and said, "Okay, get up, son. If you're going to stay here you're going to earn your keep." Surprised, Shawn sat up and wiped a tired hand over his dry eyes.

"How?" He asked hesitantly. To be honest, though he'd been staying at the Gusters' for the past five months, he and Mr. Guster hadn't really talked except for the passive aggressive hints at meal times about Shawn's lack of employment.

Brandishing a list, Mr. Guster pulled out his reading glasses. "This is a list of the things I need to fix around the house." He practically thrust the list in Shawn's face before crossing his arms in a position of authority. To be honest, it scarily resembled Henry's. "You're gonna help me and I won't hear any complaints, right?"

Shawn gave a wry smile and a quick nod before rolling over into the comfort of the bedclothes. He felt truly certain Mr. G would go back upstairs and he would be able to wallow for a little bit longer while he pondered just what he was going to do about getting his life back in some semblance of an order. He'd just closed his eyes when he felt a shove at his shoulder. "What?"

"We need to get started right away, Shawn, before we lose this light."

"It's eight o'clock in the morning." Shawn grumbled, hating the chuckles that followed.

"It's twelve o'clock and my wife has been way too generous in letting you sleep in this late." He started to pull the bedclothes off of Shawn's curled up form. "Sometimes I think she likes you better than me."

Shawn sat up and ran a hand over his face, muttering, "I wonder why."

* * *

><p>It wasn't as if Gus was incapable of understanding wanting to have a party every now and then. He totally understood wanting to celebrate the arrival of the weekend or the end of a grading period but when it bled into the Tuesday after and the music blared loud enough to shake the cork assignment board that hung above Gus' window, the partying had gotten excessive.<p>

It was this complaint and the need to study for his Government final that led to Gus stomping his way up the stairwells to the roof of his dormitory. Clutching his notes tight to his chest, Gus eyed the seemingly deserted roof before settling down a few feet from a lookout onto the quad. It was a nice enough, quiet enough spot that he spread his work out, set down his jacket and laid down to get back to work. He lost himself in terminology and the workings of the Senate and failed to notice a wind picking up until his printed sheet with the coursework for the year was swept up and towards the deathly edge.

"Oh, no. No, no, no, no, no!" Gus yelped, jumping to his feet and chasing after the paper. He stumbled a few times on the roof ground and followed the sheet all the way over to the short wall blocking the edge. He'd just reached out and managed to grip the paper when an unknown hand reached out and gripped the back of his t-shirt.

A desperate voice rang out, "Whoa, dude, I know the school's motto says that 'The pursuit of knowledge is never-ending', but I don't think this is what they had in mind." Once he was safely three feet away from the ledge, Gus spun around to meet his presumed savior. The man stood a few inches taller than Gus with curly brown hair and bright green eyes. The corner of his mouth was turned up in a small version of a smirk but his eyes were tight around the edges.

"My life was going over the edge for a moment there. I really needed this." He clutched his notes to his chest.

"I'm sure it seemed that way at the time." The stranger insisted.

Gus eyed him curiously, still shaking the wrinkles out of his clothes until he finally understood the misunderstanding. Holding his hands up and shaking his head, "Hey, wait. I wasn't trying to—I wouldn't— I just wanted some peace."

The stranger nodded cynically and cut him off. "We all feel that way sometimes."

"I came up here for a place to get my thoughts straight."

"Tumbling to the ground below wouldn't have helped you."

"I just couldn't take all of those people screaming and –"

"Just say no."

"I was just trying to…" Gus paused in his explanation. "I think that's the anti-drugs motto."

The stranger took a moment, bit a nail as he thought over Gus' words. Finally he nodded, curls gently scattering atop his head. "You may have a point but for the purpose of my argument I will refuse to admit that."

Gus cocked an eyebrow, slightly stunned. "Did you just admit I was right and disagree with me at the same time?"

The stranger shook his head and responded, "Yes. And No."

This gained a real laugh from Gus as he gathered his things to a less windy part of the roof. He weighed down his work with his textbook and jacket. Sitting back on top of a metal box, Gus studied the green-eyed stranger in between bouts of making sure he'd truly saved his Government notes. The lines on the strangers face told stories, laugh lines around that unwavering, sure-fire grin, stress lines between his brow that belied some uncertainty, scars on the bottom corner of his cheek that had faded to an almost unnoticeable shade. The stranger had brought nothing with him up here besides the pack of cigarettes in his jacket pocket.

"Tyler."

Gus looked up from organizing his pile, unsure of what to say. "This is the part where you tell me your name and I get to decide if you're telling the truth or lying because you're a criminal on the run from the police for one of the lame felonies like embezzling money or making counterfeit mattress tags."

Ignoring the weird stretch of unused muscles in his face, Gus grinned. "Burton Guster but ev—some people call me Gus." He reached out his hand but Tyler didn't take it, choosing instead to light a cigarette.

"Gus, huh?" He glanced back at the boy behind him and shuffled backwards to sit next to him on the metal box. "I like that. It's childish and sweet but clever at the same time. Who gave you that name?"

The twinge returned to the pit of Gus' stomach but he ignored it. "My best friend. So… do I make counterfeit mattress tags or what?"

At this unexpected joke, Tyler let out a startled laugh and the glint in his eye soothed the painful sinking feeling in Gus' abdomen. "No, I peg you for the smuggling of stolen label-makers. That seems like a Gus-like crime."

"Well, I do love my labels."

* * *

><p>AN: So what did you guys think?


	2. Just Tell Me You Like It

Shawn had barely started on the task list when he realized that Mr. Guster was a tougher boss than Henry had ever been. When faced with a non-compliant, cursing and lazy Shawn, Henry slowly learned that it was easier to just give up on his son's assistance and finish the job on his own. It worked for both of them in the end, the task got finished and Shawn was free to spend his time on something useful, like figuring out if there was a way to make Shrinky Dinks get bigger instead of smaller.

That had been Henry's M.O but with Mr. G, if Shawn wasn't attempting to work his way through a fraction of the extremely long, ever-expanding chore-list, he was nursing himself back to some semblance of humanity. The very first day he was sentenced to clean out the shed and put all four-hundred and eighty-seven tools back in order by size and use. He went in at one-o'clock in the afternoon and left at two-in the morning. He worked and in between Mrs. G came out to bring him samples of treats she was experimenting with. Her sunny smile and warm conversation were the only things that made his work feel less like a prison punishment. Mr. G came out to watch him work once only to tell him that he'd made a mistake in his first count and he would have to take all of the tools out again and recount. Shawn made up some new curse words in the slew of the ones he threw at Mr. G's back.

Now it was fixing a leak in the roof on the patio. The leak had existed since Shawn could remember. It was part of the reason he and Gus always played at the Gusters' when it rained. Shawn had never patched a roof, and he'd explained as much to Mr. G when he'd been given the task but Mr. G had shut him. He said, "You'd never mended a hole in a fence, fixed a clogged sink or changed a tire either, so don't go around giving me excuses. You set yourself up to fail every time with your 'I can't's and 'I've never's and 'I'm too whatever's. Just get your butt up that ladder and try before you tell me you can't do it. Don't sell yourself short until you've done the measurements."

So Shawn had rolled his eyes and climbed the ladder to the top of the patio roof… nineteen times. He'd been given the right tools but his patches just weren't holding. The first time he thought he'd finished, he'd called Mr. G outside to show off only to have the patch fall off and land in the grass a few yards away. The second and third times, Mr. G climbed the ladder and poured a bucket of water on Shawn's work and smiled a satisfied grin when the leak stuttered to a start again.

Now, Shawn was hard at work on his twentieth try, he'd read manuals, went to the library, did everything short of actually admit to Mr. G that he had no idea what he was doing and now felt like the last of his patience was on trial. If he failed this time… well he hoped he wouldn't. He worked deep into the night and when he finally felt finished, he stepped down from. He searched the house for Mr. G, the sound of thunder going off somewhere far away.

Mr. G was inside tasting one of his wife's stranger experiments, jelly rolls with a hint of pepper for some odd reason. Seeing Shawn, he stood up, adjusted his looser belt and followed the young teenager outside. He stepped up, looked at the place where the leak had been and waited. He stood there, for what felt like an hour and all the while Shawn's nerves were going haywire with anticipation. This was it; this was the last of his calm being tested by this harmless thunderstorm. It started to pour harder and the patch was holding. Mr. G's stance seemed to grow and Shawn's heart began to slow. He stepped back, towards the door to the house when he heard it. A soft pattering sound and he noticed the small circular stain on the light wood of the patio floor. As if sensing his dread, the drops started and kept coming, harder and harder with the rain.

Mr. G stepped closer and stuck his hand in the way of the stream. "Now, that's a leak. I could shower in that leak." He smiled and such peace in the face of Shawn's steady loss of cool was just unacceptable.

"Okay! I get it! I can't fix this!" Shawn screamed, starling Mrs. Guster from inside the house. "What am I supposed to do?"

Mr. G seemed unsurprised by Shawn's frustration. "You're asking me?"

"Yes!" He roared and his mood only intensified when Mr. G only grinned in response.

"You never ask me." He said calmly.

"You know why."

"For curiosity sake, why?"

"I don't know how to do this." Voice laden with the clarity that he wasn't really talking about the roof.

"What do you normally do when you can't find the answers?" Mr. G asked as his hand still trailed through the falling rain.

Shawn paused in thought and finally settled on "I don't know."

"Yes, you do."

"I just said 'I don't know'. Don't try to tell me I know something that I don't fu—" He paused. In all of the work that he'd done, the seemingly impossible tasks, Shawn had learned that cursing and swearing got him nowhere. All it'd ever done was make Mr. Guster twice as hard on him. "Just don't."

"I will because I know you know this. You just don't want to admit it." That sickeningly sweet smile returned and Shawn wanted nothing more than to shatter it. With a start he realized that lately it seemed as if he'd been angry his entire life. "What do you do, Shawn?"

At the mumbled answer, "I missed it; what did you say?" Mr. G's tone suggested a victory and Shawn wasn't sure if the win was in getting his answer or shredding the last of Shawn's self-assurance.

"I give up! I just… I just stop trying." He choked and his voice stuttered to a stop. The tears welling up in the corners of his eyes threatened to spill over but he stopped them, unwilling to cry now, in front of Gus' father of all people. Fortunately, Mr. Guster had decided to pretend Shawn wasn't slowly disintegrating. "What am I supposed to do now, Mr. G?"

"You have this ridiculous notion that if you ever needed for help, it would make you less of a man." He placed a hand on Shawn's trembling shoulder and made sure to catch his eye. "Asking for help does not make you weak; it makes you stronger than most."

* * *

><p>If Gus hadn't grown up with a friend like Shawn Spencer, Tyler Austin would've taken the cake for the strangest person he'd ever met. Tyler avoided pleasantries in every form and settled on what interested him the most. In class, rather than raise his hand to participate he chose to interject whenever he thought someone's opinion was boring. He mismatched his socks on purpose and wore a pocket watch around his neck. A few months into their… relationship, acquaintance, it became known that Tyler preferred to hang out on rooftops because just being inside for longer than a few hours made him feel claustrophobic. So much so that Gus had once found the man, asleep, almost frozen to death in thirty-degree weather.<p>

In a lot of ways Gus admired Tyler more than he'd ever admired anyone. More than his way of acknowledging his flaws and being out in the open with them, in some cases even embracing them. What Gus found so endearing was Tyler's ability to see the best in people, their potential and then work like hell to bring it out. Gus had no clue what Tyler thought he saw in him but he was thankful for it because being with Tyler felt like gambling where the stakes would never be high enough.

Gus never knew where he stood. It had been four months before Gus was even sure he and Tyler were actually anything, let alone friends. Nothing was ever certain to Tyler and to say he wasn't fond of labels and categories would be an understatement.

So, when Gus was catching heat from his roommate for his ever-growing collection of postcards littering the floor underneath his bed, Tyler's reaction was surprising and not, really. Gus was on the floor of his bedroom trying to figure out what to do with the battered and torn box of postcards, there was no way he would be able to throw them away but it seemed he didn't have a choice. Tyler opened the door, knocking after he was inside.

"Hey G, how's it going? Wait," He dropped to his knees beside Gus' tense position on the dusty floor. He'd seen the box before, attempted to sneak a peek but Gus had eyed him anxiously and all he'd been able to make out was the letter 'S' and haphazardly slanted handwriting. Tyler noted the trashcan next to Gus' right hip and frowned. "Gus, you can't throw these away."

Gus barely noticed Tyler's words, concentrating on the familiar scent of the roof of his building. Smoke and grass and the slightest hint of leaves were barely enough to bring Gus out of his trance. He'd promised to meet Tyler on the roof an hour ago but he'd gotten distracted. "I have to do something with them."

Watching the weathered cards shake in Gus' trembling hands, Tyler gently reached over and pulled them out of his grasp. Keeping an eye on Gus' protective expression, Tyler placed them back in the box without taking the opportunity to read some of the messages. In all of the time he'd known Gus, he'd never gotten the chance to find out who 'S' was or why she was such a sore topic with Gus. He figured things had ended badly and took Gus' silence as an out; if Gus didn't have to talk about his own heartbreak, than Tyler wouldn't have to explain about his either.

"Mark says I have to get rid of them, or find some place to put them because they're cluttering up our room." Gus explained, leaning unconsciously back into Tyler's shoulder. The other boy turned so that they were leaning back to back and Gus was thankful for it. Now he could hide the furry of emotions taking turns on his face.

Tyler studied the ends of his curls and frowned, contemplating. "Well fuck Mark. He doesn't get to be the boss of you; this is your room too and I say you should be able to keep whatever you want." They sat there for a while longer, the tension steadily residing in Gus' body until Tyler got frustrated and jumped to his feet, pulling Gus with him. "Let's get some air."

They climbed the stairs to the roof, the vice grip on Gus' hand squeezing the delicate bones whenever he seemed to linger in his haste to follow. The door opened and true to Tyler's word, the air calmed Gus a bit. They walked over to the familiar metal box in the middle of the roof, stepping over wires as they went. The trail was so familiar they could've walked it with their eyes closed.

An hour passed before Gus supplied anything, any response at all. "He's right you know. They're not doing any good just sitting in a box underneath my bed. I should move them."

Tyler studied the darkened sky, city lights preventing any sightings of stars at all. "Maybe."

"I should move them." Gus repeated, weathering the beginnings of a tear at the knee of his jeans.

"You should." Tyler knew Gus well enough at this point to know that the less he said, the more Gus would tell him. He wasn't sure when knowing about this 'S' became vital information to him but if she mattered this much, than Tyler felt like he _needed_ to know. Although, part of him wondered if by putting Gus up on a pedestal where he could do no wrong, Tyler was setting himself to be let down when Gus disproved himself to be the perfect angel he'd been perceived as.

A while later and Gus was shivering, his teeth were chattering but he was finally determined to talk. "He shouldn't have meant so much to me, when I really think about it. I mean we met when were twelve and how many people can say that they met their best friend that long ago and they're still that close. We should've grown apart, we should've grown into different people, we should've… become the kind of friends that say 'hey, what's up?' when you pass them in the hallway but walk away fast enough after because they don't really care about the answer. That kind of friends… the kind that looks back years later and thinks 'Oh, Shawn Something, I remember him. We used to be the best of friends', you know? I shouldn't still care, we shouldn't have stayed so close, I should've forgotten his name, you know?"

And Tyler did know but this was Gus' moment so he just nodded and pulled off his jacket. Gus took the offered jacket and continued talking, despite the clattering of his teeth. "We should've broken it off a long time ago so everything we had this past year- it was on borrowed time, right?" He asked, looking to Tyler for the sort of approval or consolation he felt like he needed. Tyler just waited for him to continue and he did because he had to get this out. "It was borrowed time so I shouldn't feel bad for leaving. We were abnormal and the future just fixed us."

The words broke off and it was a moment before Tyler realized Gus was crying, attempting to be quiet and failing miserably. He debated whether acknowledging it would be better than ignoring it and settled on laying his head on Gus' shoulder. It seemed to work and Gus kept trying to suppress the ache in his throat, warm and wet tears sliding their own paths down the side of Tyler's neck. At the contact, Tyler snuck a peek at Gus only to bury his head further, shying away for the first time since Gus had met him and it only made him feel worse.

"I feel like such as asshole." Gus confessed thickly as his hands took hold of the loose leg of his jeans and clenched the fabric tightly.

Pressing his cheek further into Gus' shoulder, Tyler disagreed. "Why?"

"I'm happy. I'm actually happy, and that really scares me." He admitted, unsure why Tyler's nose buried in the space between his shoulder and collarbone felt so safely comforting. The lazy curls on his head smelled of smoke and the roof. Tyler always smelled like the outside world he'd fallen in love with and Gus was starting to learn.

"Why?" Tyler demanded.

"Because it feels worth it." Gus stared up at the sky, shifting just slightly enough to allow for Tyler to lean more comfortably into him. It seemed the smaller man was half asleep on Gus' shoulder. "Like it was worth breaking his heart."

One beat later, "You're happy?"

"Yes." Gus bit out against the feel of his heart ramming against his rib cage.

Tyler, rather reluctantly, pulled his face away from the spot he'd made for himself to really study Gus. The regret was real, the guilt was all there, all over his face hardening his features and as much as it hurt for Tyler to see it he was glad for this. He knew a true, raw part of Gus; it was terrible, rough and bruised but Tyler just wanted to know him. He had to see the parts that were kept under wraps, to know what was broken and caution himself away if he found that he couldn't handle it.

Making his way from the drying tear tracks to the top Tyler started at the eyes. Despite the darkness, the puffiness it was easy to make out the glassy sheen of uneasy calm; Gus was truly happy. Tyler nodded to himself and returned to his warm spot in Gus' shirt and wondered why he'd never pressed his face here in the first place because it was freakin' comfy.

"It must've been." And for a moment Gus didn't understand.

* * *

><p>Gus came down to his room weeks later and opened the door to find a quietly stewing Mark staring back at him. "What?"<p>

"Nothing. Nothing at all, Guster but tell your boyfriend this isn't over." With that, he got up and pushed past Gus through the doorway.

Tyler looked back from where he'd been kneeling on the bed to smile sweetly at Mark's retreating back. "See ya, Mark. Might wanna give us a few before you come back. Wouldn't wanna walk in on us, might make you feel inadequate, buddy."

Fully entering the room, Gus understood what Mark was so upset about. Wallpapering his side of the room, every postcard Shawn had ever sent was staring back at him. The many different sites around Santa Barbara staring back at him like windows from home. The pier they'd run from after stealing ice cream pops from a stand nearby, the park they shot fireworks in, the playground where Shawn had given him a pineapple for their two month anniversary- all staring back at him.

And at first Gus was livid; he felt exposed and defenseless if the past he'd left behind easily managed to torment him from harmless pieces of cardstock. He intended to calm his screams down to a normal tone and tell Tyler to take them down before he ripped them down with his bare hands, when he noticed the hopeful look in Tyler's eyes. Bright green alit with nervous expectation of approval and Tyler was never nervous. This meant a lot to him, Gus realized and he was finally able to see the presentation for what it was meant to be. Not a cruel tactic to make him face his guilt head on, but an attempt at a gift for him—from a friend. This was Tyler's way of saying that despite his joking insistence that he didn't, he cared.

"Wh—I don't- what do I say?" He was flustered.

Tyler came down from the bed to stand where Gus was observing his new wallpaper for all that it was. "Just," He pulled Gus into a cautious hug, they didn't embrace much and when they did it was almost never a full one. "Tell me you like it."

And though it hurt at first to see his past on display like that, knowing the messages on the back and worried that Tyler might've read them, when he answered it wasn't entirely a lie. "I do."

Tyler studied his face for the truth, nodded and hugged him again.

* * *

><p>Shawn was on his way to mail another postcard when he ran into Mrs. Guster at the end of the stairs. "Oh, hi, Shawn." She greeted, laundry basket on her left hip. It was ridiculous, even after Shawn's insistence and Mr. G's complaints that she was babying them both, she still insisted on doing their laundry. "Where are you off to?"<p>

Shawn bit his lip, an acquired habit and decided to confess. After all, it wasn't like she didn't know that he was still mailing postcards to her son. "Post office."

Her smile fell a fraction as she chose her words delicately. "Honey, he never writes you back." She would've come up to Stanford a long time ago and beat her son over the head with a spoon for being so careless but she was determined to stay out of it. She learned a long time ago that messing with the stubborn nature of Shawn Spencer was a mistake in the making.

Shawn smiled sadly and shook his head. "That's not the point. I'm not even sure I'd want him to." What if he tells me to stop writing him, to stay out of his new life, that he found someone new? Studying the holey toe of his Converse, he ignored the twinge in his stomach. "I want him to know I'm still here."

She covered her mouth, unsure if what she felt was pity or envy. She didn't know what it must be like to be that dedicated in youth, before life had even really started. She pulled Shawn into her free arm and balanced the basket on a step when it seemed Shawn wasn't letting go.

They were still standing there when Mr. G came into the foyer, his fatigue more expressive today. His keys jingled in his hand as he observed the sight on the stairwell with contemplative eyes. "Come on, son. If you want a ride to the post office, you better hurry up and catch it."

Months ago, his brusque tone would've annoyed Shawn but he'd come to recognize the warmth underneath it. He pulled back, pretended Mrs. G hadn't cried out of worry for his impending heartbreak. As he followed Mr. G out to his car, he wondered when this place had become his own.

The ride to the post office began the way the other's had, silent with the small whine of talk radio in the background. They'd just turned the block from the house when Mr. G broke the usual routine with a confession. "I didn't take very much to your relationship with my son. It wasn't right for two boys to be that close."

Shawn froze, heart speeding up, unaware of when Mr. G's approval had begun to matter. "What?"

Glancing over, knowing look on his face, Mr. continued. "Don't play dumb with me. I know exactly how close you two were."

"If you don't like it, then why did you let me stay over graduation night? It wasn't just because Mrs. G made you."

It was something he'd been wondering for quite some time. All of the work he'd done with Mr. G watching over his shoulder, stepping in to help when he asked for it, Shawn was slowly coming to realize the intimidation he felt around Mr. G was actually really silly. He could patch up a bleeding, six-inch gash on Shawn's forearm just as easily as he could laugh and joke with him. The difficult part for Shawn to understand was that just because he'd disappointed Mr. Guster, it didn't mean he wouldn't be given a second chance. He still wanted to see Shawn succeed so if he watched Shawn fail a few times without stepping in to assist, Shawn knew it wasn't out of dislike, but because he wanted to see if Shawn could pick himself up on his own. As a result, the teenager had grown to need that type of encouragement.

He grinned at that. "You sure pay attention when you want to, don't you, son?" He turned a corner, reminding Shawn that they were almost there and this conversation wasn't even close to over. "My son was salutatorian and he was going off to college to be something great. I figured it was the end of an era and if I didn't let you in his life this last time you would break into our house anyway."

Shawn shook of the small feelings of pride at the last statement but something was bugging him. "You knew he was going to leave me?"

"I suspected." The older man corrected.

"How?"

Now Mr. G seemed to regret answering. "You were abrasive and possessive and needed him too much." He put on the turn signal and Shawn noticed for the first time that his hands were shaking. "When he left I thought 'Good. Now he can try life on his own.' It was never out of dislike for you that I wanted him to go. I just wanted him to pass or fail on his own terms and he couldn't do that with you around. I knew I had to give him that one last night for him to realize that on his own."

"You wanted him alone?"

"I needed him to be. My whole life, the only thing I regretted was not letting that boy depend on himself for anything. He was a sick child, came into the world that way and when we found out about his asthma it all went downhill. We thought he couldn't do anything by himself; he could never be left alone, always had to double check that he had his inhaler, had access to a phone, that he knew all his doctors' numbers. Those first few years, when we weren't worrying we were thinking about worrying. He was so delicate I barely ever held him myself, afraid he would break if I just looked at him too hard. I guess you know what that's like." He eyed Shawn, surprised at the flush he found there. He'd come to know there wasn't much that rattled the teenager and he couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him the slightest bit embarrassed.

"Why are you telling me this?" Shawn rasped, it was all too much to process.

"I want you to understand that none of this had anything to do with you." He pulled into a parking spot, albeit a little less perfectly than he'd done in the seventy-eight times he'd done before. "Gus left to prove to himself that he could do it. He had to try to be on his own; it was nothing you did." He watched the teenager until he reluctantly gave a nod. "If you still want to mail that postcard, go right ahead but you need to stop blaming yourself. My son didn't leave because of you and neither did your mother."

At that, Shawn's head snapped up, eyes burning with shame and disbelief. He'd hit the nail on the head. "What do you know?" Shawn bit out.

"More than you'd think." Mr. G answered sternly, watching the crowd around the post office.

They sat there, Shawn repulsed at the conversation and Mr. G wondering just what his son had done with the postcards, if he'd even gotten them. It was this dedication, this devotion, Shawn's holding on the idea of Gus getting these cheap pieces of mail that convinced Mr. Guster that he had to give Shawn some kind of distraction. Give him something to do with his time, with his hands, with his mind. For the most part, he'd succeeded. Shawn seemed better until the end of the week when he'd come down the stairs with another postcard clenched tight in his hand and Mr. G would have to psyche himself up for the ride, all the while wondering if he was helping either of his boys by giving in.

Eventually, "Okay, we can go home." Shawn said, having never left the vehicle. He folded the postcard and put it back in his pocket, avoiding the small grin he could picture on Mr. G's face.

Nodding, he reached for the keys in the ignition before pausing. "You have your wallet on you?"

"Yeah."

"Good, you drive us home." He eyed his trembling hands, shaking Shawn's concerned glance with a quick chuckle. "Kept me up all night with your loud music and I didn't get the chance for a nap."

The day had been so emotionally draining so Shawn just took the explanation for what it was and got out to switch.


	3. Uncoordinated, Weepy and Clingy

"Rise and shine, Mr. G! Old Betsy isn't going to get up and running on her own." Shawn called into the Guster's dark bedroom. Mrs. Guster was down in the kitchen making breakfast and by the smell of it, they were having waffles today, a great start. As strange as it had seemed almost a year ago, Shawn had grown so used to having homemade meals three times a day. The effects had filled out most of his scrawny form and he was proud to say he'd lost some of his awkward gangly qualities.

Sensing Mr. G wasn't moving, Shawn entered the room and stopped short at Mr. G's bedside. Reaching out hesitantly, he shook the man's shoulder, jumping back as he stirred groggily. "Isn't it a little early for you to be up? I thought one in the afternoon was more your style."

"It's eight. I'm awake and you're still sleeping. What's wrong with this picture?" Shawn asked, helping the older man sit up. The rings underneath his eyes had gotten more pronounced in the last few weeks but Mr. G's stern glares stopped his wife and Shawn from mentioning them.

"If you see any other signs of the Apocalypse let me know, okay?" He stood up carefully, using Shawn's hand to help himself up. "You go ahead set everything up, alright?"

Shawn sensed he was being kicked out and took his time leaving the room, watching out of the corner of his eye as Mr. G settled back on the bed and took a few deep breaths.

Shawn had eaten breakfast and very aptly noted that when Mr. G came outside to join him in working on the late Mustang, it was well past ten o-clock.

* * *

><p>Tyler took Gus to a party on the third week of no postcards from Shawn. He resigned to keep all judgments to himself about Gus' best friend but he couldn't help the slight anger heating his blood. From where he was standing, Gus had done nothing wrong by leaving and if this 'Shawn' person really meant as much as he did, why did Gus have to feel bad for being happy? It just didn't fit but rather than ask Gus about it to try to understand better, he decided to pull his friend out of his wallowing.<p>

"I'm not wallowing. Do I look like an elephant to you?" Gus asked, barely fighting as Tyler dragged him through the halls of the strange apartment building.

Tyler paused for a moment and shook his head at Gus' sheer nerdiness. "I'll ignore that you just asked that for the betterment of my quest to get you drunk. Onward ho!" He pushed Gus with renewed strength towards Josh Garrison's apartment. The sounds of loud and repetitive melodies stung his ears but he'd sacrifice his music tastes for one night if it meant Gus would stop moping.

He dropped Gus off at the beer table and made his way through the party to where Josh sat on the couch. He slumped down into the deep cushions and closed his eyes, leaning his head back. "Who's that?" Josh asked.

Tyler opened his eyes long enough to see that Gus was awkwardly complying with a group of girls demanding him to drink with them. One on the outside, a redhead was trailing her hands along Gus' thin bicep, obviously trying other tactics to get his agreement. Tyler laughed to himself before relaxing again. "My student for the night."

"What?" Josh had known him for too long but not enough to understand his eccentricities.

"I'm determined to lead him down the path of guiltless selfishness." Tyler elaborated, opening his eyes again to see Gus had started on his third beer and the girls were winning him over. Good, he needed something to forget about Shawn for a night and maybe a pretty girl was just what he needed.

Hours later and Tyler was dragged Gus back to his apartment and cursing himself for thinking alcohol had been a good idea. He'd finally gotten the door open when Gus promptly passed out and tumbled to the ground. Tyler stood there, his keys in hand and stared at the heap of limbs at his feet. He was tempted to prop the door open and leave Gus there, he looked just that peaceful but he knew Gus would never forgive him for it. So Tyler climbed over Gus' sleeping form and pulled him the rest of the way into the apartment by his arms.

He managed to hall the smaller boy into his bed somehow and, after making sure there was a bucket by his feet, he grabbed a t-shirt and made his way to the bathroom to change. Surprisingly, Gus wasn't a weepy drunk. On contraire, he was quite loud and a bit rude and if it'd been anyone else, Tyler would've been annoyed and irritated but rude was such an unknown shade on Gus and Tyler was very fond of the unknown. He'd leaned back into Josh's couch and listened as Gus single-handedly demolished whatever reputation Mark Oliver had at Stanford in a drunkenly clever monologue. To say Tyler was proud would be an understatement.

When Tyler entered his bedroom again, he decided he would have to share his bed with Gus. There was no way he was moving him again and his couch was covered in boxes he'd never unpacked in the year he'd been living here and he was too tired to successfully move them.

Climbing over Gus' sprawled form, Tyler lifted Gus' head into his lap. Too wired to go to sleep just yet, he traced animal shapes with his fingers across the bridge of Gus' nose and across his forehead where the tense lines had finally faded. He stifled a laugh when Gus attempted and failed to swat his hands away. He drew his signature on Gus' cheek and wrote out the lyrics to "Wonderwall" on his chin. At some point, Gus stirred enough to call out, Tyler ceased his playing.

"Shawn?" Gus reached out blindly and Tyler held his breath. _Okay, alcohol and Gus not a good idea,_ he reasoned but stayed quiet. "I'm sorry. I let you down." His eyes opened and whether it was his apology or the alcohol, tears welled up and started freefalling and Tyler suddenly felt useless. His hands hovered above Gus' strained expression until he settled on wiping the tears away with the sides on his palms. Eventually he picked up a corner of his bedsheet to finish the job while trying to be whatever Gus needed right now.

"It's okay." Tyler muttered, still petting Gus' face with the sheet. He wasn't sure he was really helping at all. He whispered, "You are really messed up, my friend."

"'S not okay." He sat up and Tyler froze in place, studying the side of Gus' face for any sign of recognition. "You mean so much to me." And suddenly Tyler felt an uncomfortable itch settle over him. It didn't sound like something he'd say to his best friend. It didn't sound like best-friend for life material either and if that was the case, how had he so horribly miscalculated Gus' situation? Tyler leaned back, feeling the wall behind his back, as Gus pulled him into his arms, clutching painfully.

"Gus." Tyler whispered into his shoulder. "It's okay." He tried numbly, still processing this new information when Gus softly pressed their lips together. They stayed like that, joined at the mouth for a moment as Tyler tried to figure out what the hell to do. Gus pulled back and Tyler kept still for fear that he'd really woken up this time but Gus only kissed him again, this time more open and somehow warmer. Tyler leaned back against the wall and tilted Gus' head back with a gentle sigh, welcoming the kisses that followed. Kissing Gus was… sweet and unfamiliar and he'd stopped crying so Tyler figured he was making some kind of progress.

This was different and when had Tyler ever shied away different? They shifted to the comfort of the bed and slowly the kisses when from needy and greedy to soft and barely there. Gus drifted into sleep to the feel of Tyler's lips planted trails down Gus' face until Shawn finally faded away.

* * *

><p>He sent one and only one postcard after the conversation in Mr. G's car. One question and he didn't even sign it. "Did you always know?" And however ambiguous, Shawn had faith Gus would interpret it the way it was meant—when he'd been scheming and planning out their trip around the world had Gus already made his choice? From the day they met, did Gus know?<p>

That had been a week ago and now Shawn sat at the kitchen table, Mrs. G's recipes scattered everywhere. She'd come to Shawn on what would normally be "Postcard Day" with a request that he help her organize her recipes for the first time in twenty years. He agreed readily, anything to distract the nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach urging him to go upstairs and mail the postcard he'd spent all morning writing.

This had become his routine. Every Sunday morning, he'd wake up drawn to the desk before he could stop himself. He'd write out whatever it was he needed to say and then he'd get halfway to the hall to ask Mr. G for a ride before he'd be able to make himself stop. A few times, he'd gotten all the way to the post office before he turned around, Mr. G nodding approvingly from the passenger seat. He'd felt bad for dragging the weary man along with him only to turn around but Mr. G had shut that guilt down quick and easy.

"I needed to get out of the house and you needed to learn how to parallel park. See that spot over there, prove me wrong, get in there in less than ten minutes and I'll never criticize your driving again." He challenged and Shawn took it for the out that it was. He didn't make it past the lawn with a postcard after that.

Now, Mrs. Guster set about dividing her recipes by occasion. She set Shawn with the task of arranging them in the decorated binder she'd bought for the job. "Have you ever thought about publishing a recipe book, Mrs. G? You'd probably make a killing off of your Apple Pie recipe alone."

She gave a soft pat on his cheek and smiled humbly. "No, no, I'm not quite that good. I started this thing to keep my family fed and it spiraled into impressing Bill's coworkers and Joy's classmates at school. I'm just happy you all haven't tired of my food."

Shawn threw on a playful scandalized expression. "Never. Besides, you could make the same thing day after day and I'd never get bored. You're just that good, Mrs. G."

She grinned and kissed him on the cheek. "And that's why I like you more than Bill." She joked as her husband shuffled into the room.

"I knew it. What have I told you, Shawn? She just admitted it." Mr. G said, coming to stand next to Shawn at the table. "Finally organizing these, huh? You know you could print them, I know the women from the office have been dying to get their hands on your strawberry shortcake recipe."

Shawn eyed her with an expectant expression and she frowned in thought. "You know, you two just might be on to something."

"You listen when he suggests it?" Shawn insisted, laughing as he dodged a swat to the head with a kitchen towel.

Mr. G grinned smugly as he grabbed an apple and started towards the doorway. He paused and it looked like he was going to say something, tease Shawn some more but he instead latched onto the door jamb like a vice.

"Mr. G, you okay?" Shawn asked, hurrying over as the older man started and fell to the floor.

* * *

><p>Gus awoke to the sight of bright green numbers telling him he'd slept until noon. He rubbed at his eyes and rolled over into bony elbows and a retreating form. Opening his eyes fully, Gus watched as Tyler attempted to steal his pillow from under Gus' head. "Mine. Fuck off and get your own." Gus bit back a laugh, that blob of messily arranged curls was definitely Tyler.<p>

He got out of bed, stretched and noticed the bucket at his feet. Right, he'd gotten drunk last night and now, his stomach churned and he hurried for the bathroom.

When he got out Tyler was sitting on the arm of his couch picking at a cigarette burn in the fabric. He didn't look nearly as bad as Gus felt. As he came closer, Gus noticed Tyler had that usual intrigued expression on his face. Rather than ask what he was trying to figure out today, Gus asked, "Did I do anything embarrassing last night? Throw up on something, steal something stupid like cabinet handles or, God forbid, sing?"

A reluctant grin spread on Tyler's face and he shook his head. "Lunch."

"Lunch?" Gus asked, confused as that wasn't a real answer.

"Lunch." Tyler stated firmly and set off towards the front door. Gus ignored how itchy it felt to be in last night's clothes but followed anyway.

The walk to the café was quiet but not uncomfortable. Tyler was in a contemplative mood and Gus was still getting over why he hadn't fought getting drunk with Tyler last night. When it seemed that Shawn's postcards had stopped, Gus realized he'd been unwillingly looking forward to them. Despite the messages being thrown at him like daggers to the heart, Gus was comforted by knowing that no matter how mad he was, how betrayed he felt… Shawn was still thinking about him. The hurt he was throwing in Gus' face meant that he still cared and that meant a lot. It told Gus that maybe when this was all over, if they could somehow be different people then maybe they could have something one day. Something even better then what they had before.

The last one he'd gotten yesterday, the blatant unanswerable question had driven Gus to get drunk for the first time in a long time. He didn't want to play the blame game but he was sure the stress from that postcard was the reason he hadn't settled for getting buzzed and went straight for the sloppy, blackout option.

Both boys lost in thought, everything seemed balanced until, upon reaching the doors to the café, a girl came rushing out and pretty much sent Tyler flying into Gus. She apologized profusely and Gus nodded and smiled politely, telling her that it was "no big thing. They were both fine.", but as she continued on her way Gus couldn't help but notice Tyler had frozen beneath Gus' hands. He'd unconsciously grabbed Tyler around the waist to keep him from falling on the walkway and compared to the way he'd woken up, Gus thought his grasp was pretty tame, harmless. Apparently it wasn't because Tyler was stiff and by the look in his eye, confused.

"You okay? Did you hit your head on the door?" Gus asked, leaving his hands where they were in case his friend was off balance.

"'M fine." Tyler muttered, pulling himself away from Gus, he shook off his nervousness and pushed ahead into the restaurant. "Come on Gus, we need to get some coffee in you." Popping his hands in his pocket, he left Gus outside without a second thought.

Tyler was staring. The act in itself wasn't that odd for Tyler but the subject of his staring was. Tyler was staring at Gus and he'd been doing so for the last twenty-five minutes. Never being one for confrontation, Gus chose to ignore it and breach what he thought was a safe subject. "So you're sure I didn't do anything embarrassing last night?"

One of Tyler's vivid green eyes twitched for a moment before he blankly replied, "Nope. Embarrassing wasn't a word I would use to describe Drunk Gus." He added meeting Gus' eyes and freezing the nervous boy in his awkward movements.

"Okay." Gus accepted for a moment before curiosity got the best of him and he had to ask. "What word would you use?"

"Words."

Gus tried to play off his nerves with a brief chuckle in response to Tyler's quiet speculation. "Uncoordinated, weepy and clingy?"

There was miniscule lowering of a brow but otherwise Tyler's face gave nothing away. At least the smirk had returned, Gus noted. Counting on fingers, Tyler listed, "Shockingly mean, unpredictable, refreshingly improper, surprising and _definitely _not boring."

With the full, toothy Tyler smile combined with his bright jade-colored eyes settled on him, Gus felt this unsettling pull in his stomach. It was entirely unfamiliar and just how good it felt stunned him. Swallowing thickly and trying to avoid the troubling, "Mean?"

Tyler laughed and obviously relished in how visibly uncomfortable Gus looked. Somewhere in the back of his mind endearing had blended with cute and the urge to be closer. He figured the last part wasn't so bad so he scooted his chair closer to where Gus sat, choking down the laugh as Gus got more flustered. "Yeah, I had no idea Mark called his mom three times a day and slept with the closet door open because he was superstitious about shadow monsters. Of course the way you put it he was… 'A bitchy little brat with a probable Oedipus Complex.' Educational and insulting; a man after me own heart. You were very entertaining."

Gus nearly spat out his coffee as he tried to figure out if Tyler was joking. Deciding that he wasn't, Gus coughed and took the compliment for what it was. "Well, I aim to please."

And there it was again, that unabashed, bright grin accompanied by eyes riddled with secrets. "That you do."


	4. Gusters Have Mean Right Hooks

Those three days Shawn tried to get in touch with Gus, he worked himself into that resentful ex he never wanted to be. He cursed Gus for being selfish, self-involved, a bastard and all these things Shawn knew he didn't believe in his heart but he was stressed and scared and if Joy hadn't of pulled him aside and slapped the hell out of him in the hospital waiting room, he probably would've been pondering how good he'd feel if he could scratch Gus' eyes out on that Tuesday.

His face was still throbbing where Joy's fingers had left a burning mark. Clutching his cheek, he stared at her, wounded but the punishment wasn't over. "That's my little brother you're talking about and I love you both but if I have to put one of you on the ground, it won't be him. Stop being a bitch, get your breath back and then get in there." She'd scolded as she came closer, biting back the laugh when he flinched. She gave him a brief kiss on the cheek, "We need you," and left him in the waiting room where worried mothers and children with coloring books were staring at him.

This explained why he was sitting down in a stiff plastic chairs when Gus came running down the hallway. He expected the ill feelings to return upon seeing Gus' confused, worried eyes peering back at him from the busy hallway but if Shawn felt anything at all, it was relief. Mr. G landing in the hospital had somewhat stolen the last person Shawn had truly let himself come to love, leaving him to feel more lost, even more than when Gus had left. At seeing Gus standing there with no qualms whatsoever about yanking Shawn into his strong grip. When he felt recently estranged feel of tears of relief stinging at the corners of his eyes he honestly couldn't remember what he'd been so angry about.

"I'm so sorry, I didn't get the message until two days and when I did, I had to find a way to get here." Gus started, pausing when Shawn grabbed him tighter and murmured, "You're here." Like that was the end of the discussion s far as he was concerned.

They walked into the hospital room and Gus was already shaking so hard he didn't even feel it when Shawn grabbed his hand and held on like a vice.

The doctor was explaining about Mr. Guster's cardiac event and when it came time to question his eating habits and exercise regimen Gus felt lost and out of place. Even Joy, who lived a couple towns away, had more to offer than Gus did. As if sensing Gus' discomfort, Shawn thumbed soothing circles on the back of his hand but there was no comforting the younger boy. Gus felt uninvited, like he was the kid down the street that slept in a tent in his closet instead of the loving son he was supposed to be. He would've acknowledged the guilt gnawing at his insides if he didn't know his father would've admonished him for it, having said many times before that Gus should allow himself to embrace college without worrying about what was going on at home.

Gus looked down at the man in the bed and if it weren't for his mother clutching his hand, Gus would've said that it wasn't his father. He looked so frail and sickly with tubes coming out of his nose and machines pumping away in the background. When had his father gotten so thin and how had those shadows appeared underneath his eyes? On his trip back to Santa Barbara, Gus hadn't set himself up that he wouldn't be arriving home to the strong, undefeatable William Guster that had tried to teach him baseball and how to change a tire. The loving father that only smiled and laughed heartily when Gus had failed but steadfastly kept trying. Not this ill, quiet and suddenly breakable man lying in front of him looking more unkempt than the proud William Guster had ever allowed himself to be.

Gus had left to do his parents proud but what good was that if they weren't around enough for him to tell them, show them what he'd done, the places he'd gone. Gus slumped down in the chair behind him and buried his face in his hands. It was this act that brought his attention to Shawn's left hand in his right. He considered sliding it out but looking up at the strain on Shawn's face convinced him that Shawn needed it. They stayed attached that way until the doctor left, Mrs. Guster holding on to her husband, Joy holding on to her, Shawn holding on to Joy and Gus hanging onto Shawn.

* * *

><p>When Mr. Guster was finally sent home with strict orders to actually relax this time, it was Mrs. Guster and Shawn that helped him out of the car. Joy was staying at a hotel with her boyfriend Matt and Gus would be staying in the study for the time being. He was on an indefinite hiatus from school and he tried to explain this to Tyler who promptly hurried his ass off the phone at the mention of it.<p>

"I'm staying for a while but I'll be back soon—"

"Okay, I love you; bring me a keychain, uh… I love you, again, kisses, see you soon, bye Gus!" He threw out in a rush before Gus could drag it out.

"Wait-"

"No, don't talk to me on the phone. I hate phone calls. All they do is make you _think_ about talking to that person face to face, then they make you _wish_ you were talking face to face and when you hang up you can only think about talking _face to face _and it's just a big fucking let down. If you have something really important to tell me, like if you want to bitch and moan and complain about Shawn being an ass go old-school and mail me a letter. Then call the cops because I'll be there like Superman kicking his ass for you, okay?"

Gus hung up the phone both reassured and nostalgic and in that way he figured Tyler was right. Hearing Tyler's loud, larger than life voice on the phone had made him want nothing more than to turn around and have him there making Gus feel like he was the only other person on the planet. Tyler was always like that; when he gave his attention to you it was like nobody else had ever existed to him. It had the unfortunate side effects of making you feel like you had to work hard to earn him and when he was far from you, you childishly wondered if he was paying attention to someone else.

"So, who was that?" Shawn asked, leaning into the door jamb with his hip. His face was grave but there was a certain grace to it that Gus hadn't remembered being there. In the harsh light of the hospital, Gus hadn't really taken the time to _look_ at Shawn and now really wasn't the time but he couldn't help it. Shawn looked older, stronger and he'd lost his awkward and lanky build. Traded it out for muscles and an easy confidence that had somehow always belonged. He looked like he could handle anything life could dish out and that was slightly intimidating from where Gus stood. "You're smiling. Or you were."

He'd noticed Gus' staring and it awakened that hopeful idiot in the back of his head that wanted to Gus' approval, wanted to know if Gus thought he looked good, had to know what Gus thought. He wondered if maybe in the midst of all the work he'd done with Mr. G he'd become hideously ugly or grim. If that would be just another reason Gus didn't want him anymore. Then he rolled his eyes at how ridiculous it was to be pondering this when Mr. G was lying sick upstairs.

Shawn's statement wasn't meant to sound accusatory and Gus knew that but he still felt defensive over Tyler. "A new friend. Tyler. He's cool… we're pretty close." He wasn't sure about that last part but he liked to think so.

Shawn eyed him amused before sitting down next to him on the couch, giving Gus more of a chance to study him in profile. They were the same features Shawn had always had, but in some ways they were stronger, bolder. Like he'd grown into owning them around the same time he'd found that new confidence that had allowed him to take whatever comfort Gus was offering at face-value without looking like he wanted to throttle the younger man. The word somber came to mind before Gus had really processed, but it seemed to fit perfectly.

"A year ago that would've made me insanely jealous." Shawn admitted and studied Mr. G's degrees on the walls. He used to hate it here with all the glass-covered frames mocking for decided not to go to college. Even after about a year of nothing but time to think, he still hadn't come to decide what the hell he planned to do with his life. He guessed at one point he'd figured it would be easier to just ride on Gus' coattails and follow him around for the rest of his life.

"Really?" Gus responded, biting at a nail. It was strange to think that his friendship with Tyler was anything to be jealous of. Even Gus didn't know where he really stood with the eccentric man. He was sure they were at least friends but that was the extent of his certainty and constantly not knowing if he could count on the older man was unsettling. For every reason being with Tyler was like being with Shawn, there were a hundred ways it was different.

Rather than tease Gus when moments got too sappy for him like Shawn had preferred, Tyler would gladly sit next to him and let the sugary moment last until any discomfort had faded. Hanging out with Shawn, Gus was rarely the center of his quick-witted companion's attention but around Tyler, if you were with him he wasn't looking at anyone else. Most importantly, being with Shawn felt like falling into a warm reserved seat at a restaurant. It was there, it had been saved for Gus if he wanted to take it. Shawn was security, he was safe, at least when things between them were good, anyway.

Being with Tyler was completely different; just the friendship was unlike anything else. Tyler went out of his way to find what frightened Gus, from karaoke to sushi, before he'd shove the younger man into doing them. He'd forced Gus into smoking pot for the first time, going to an honest-to-god bonfire and he'd taken him to a smoke filled dance-club the night before the biggest exam of Gus' life. He should've shied away from Tyler a long time ago but he kept coming back for more, craving that small tinge of approval in his green-eyed gaze when Gus proved him wrong by ignoring his trembling hands and shaky limbs. Being with Tyler was like walking a tight-rope when you were sure there wasn't a net below; you were aware of the possibility of falling, but in your haste to get to the other side you just couldn't bring yourself to care.

"You know that, Gus." Shawn chided playfully, leaning in to bump his shoulder into Gus. "You were the first great love of my life and I didn't like sharing you with anyone else."

Smiling at the residual butterflies in his stomach at a statement like that. "You hated Jason Cunningham." As if he'd just remembered. He hadn't thought about that kid in years, to be honest and when he had the memories were twisted with those weird fluttering, hot flashes he'd felt whenever it was late at night, he couldn't sleep and he was wondering why he'd never felt that unaccomplished anguish Shawn felt whenever he was rejected by a girl at school.

Stuttered out a laugh, Shawn grinned bright and for the first time in a while, at Gus. "I did. I did; I wanted to drown that kid in the lake." He stared up at the walls, lost in thought. "He had the most obvious crush on you and you were too blind to see it."

"You thought that but I know the truth. He wasn't that good at making friends and I was a nerd like him, we were kindred spirits." Gus argued, only half sure.

"Kindred spirits, my ass. He never left you alone. He used to follow you around snapping pictures with you every time there was a camera around."

"Oh, so did you after we got our faces painted!"

"Yeah but he kept _all_ of them, Gus. All of them." Shawn stated, refusing to acknowledge the rising light feeling in his bones at having Gus close and smiling, laughing with him again.

"That's not true. I have one." Crossing his arms smugly, Gus thought that was the end of it.

"Yeah, right. Where?"

"Anyway, you were jealous of a nerdy kid for being partners with me in a piñata contest. That's a little lame, Spencer."

Shawn shook his head. "Are you telling me that you were never jealous of my many conquests?" That was putting it nicely because he didn't think 'the thirty or so girls and two really drunk guys he'd fooled around with in high school' would keep the first nice conversation they'd had simple and easy.

This question Gus had to really think about. He'd been jealous of a lot of people for having time with Shawn but it was different kind of jealous. It was never because they had some part of Shawn that Gus couldn't have because later on he'd realized he had everything, every part he just hadn't know how to ask for them. No, when he'd been jealous of Shawn's relationship with other people, he wasn't able to compare it to the jealousy normal people felt.

"I did. I got jealous all the time." Gus admitted, eying the calculated look in Shawn's brown eyes. "I didn't show it but it was there."

"I would've never guessed, Gus." Shawn stated leaning back into the couch. He found that he didn't mind so much when Gus didn't do the same. The air between them was still comfortable, even if there was some unknown layer beneath it all making it not entirely easy to breath.

"Kara used to say I had a 'man left holding the purse' expression whenever you were off with someone else. I didn't get it but she explained it to me." He looked at Shawn over his shoulder. "Whenever you would hang out with your old friends—"

"Stoners." Shawn corrected.

"Your old _friends_," Gus continued. "I was stayed wherever you left me and waited for you to come back because I was jealous they could give you something I couldn't - like a night out drinking or smoking or ditching class. So I would just sulk in a corner until you'd gotten that out of your system and decided you wanted to hang out with me again. I would've just called it 'The Good Kid Complex' but Kara insisted her title was better."

Shawn furrowed his brow and something about the explanation didn't sit right with him. He didn't like the image of Gus sitting in a corner like an old coat waiting for it to be winter again. Was that really how he'd felt? "That sounds depressing, Gus."

"But it wasn't really." The younger boy remarked and when he really thought about it, it hadn't been. "For me, the best part was when you would come back. Then I knew that even though you were more experienced and audacious, you wouldn't ditch me because I wasn't." He finished and leaned back into the couch beside Shawn who smiled in response.

"Kara is one smart cookie." Shawn said eventually, arm draped Gus' shoulders. And he grinned brazenly when Gus only nodded and settled into his one-armed embrace.

* * *

><p>After a few nights in which the Gusters had to learn how to order take-out, Mrs. Guster felt up to making meals again as they built a new normal. Shawn had gotten into a routine of helping out with meals, special entrees for Mr. G, helping the older man up and down the stairs and later on, helping him exercise. The still immobile Old Betsy sat in the garage; Shawn was saving her for when Mr. G was better enough to help him.<p>

On Gus' last night they ate a meal Shawn had made on his own simply because Shawn had really wanted to.

Two weeks of making meals and he'd really come to find his niche in Italian dishes. The first lasagna experiment was an experience entitled 'The First Time Shawn Spencer Came to Realize Cheese Couldn't Make Everything Edible'. Gus had sat through it a smiled through a grimace, Joy had claimed she was watching her figure and Mrs. Guster had secretly called out for pizza beneath the table. After that, with a little help he began to get the hang of it and on Gus' last night, the linguini dish he made was so delicious everyone had seconds and Shawn received a round of applause. To which he stood up, took a bow and grinned wide enough Gus almost felt it.

Perhaps the most unsettling part about Gus being home again was how unsettling it wasn't. Sure Shawn and Gus were still learning how to be around each other but for the most part, there was an air of familiarity to having Gus around the house again. But being under the same roof as your ex-whatever Shawn had decided to label it was not without its share of awkward moments.

There was the time he'd approached his bathroom only to run into Gus with a towel strung low on his waist. This time he'd dried off, his towel was blue and not white but unfortunately Shawn couldn't help but think back to that morning Gus walked in on him jacking off in his bed. Seeing the recognition flooding Gus' face, he was remembering the same thing and rather than stand there and let things get dangerously tense, the half-covered boy shrugged and scurried back to the makeshift quarters, a 'Good Morning' muttered as he did.

There was the time he entered the office to get Mr. G's reading glasses and stumbled upon Gus sprawled across the bed, in his boxers, sound asleep and snoring. It shouldn't have been weird, it had every reason not to be: it was Gus' temporary bedroom, there was no one around to see him in his underwear and it was _his_ home, he had every right to sleep how he wanted to. But there was no ignoring the heated flush spreading across Shawn's face or the oddly uncomfortable arousal clouding his mind. Rather than dwell on the fact that it was the first time in the better part of a year he'd felt the urge at all, he tip-toed across the hardwood floor, retrieved Mr. G's glasses and hurried to deliver them before guiltily returning to his own room.

On Gus' last night after Shawn's dinner had been completely devoured, Joy had chose at the house instead of the hotel to give Gus a ride back to school. Joy and Matt would stay in the study, meaning that Gus either had to sleep on the cranky, back-aching couch in the living room or camp out on the floor in Shawn's room. Feeling comfortable enough with the progress they'd made at being friends again, Gus opted for the latter much to Joy's amusement. He made up a palate on the floor, much like he did when Shawn was spending all those night in his room.

Resting his head on the pillow, Gus had barely closed his eyes when Shawn started to speak. Which was just as well because Gus knew he wouldn't find sleep easily that night. "What do you think of Matt?"

"He's alright, I guess. I don't know much about him."

The bedsprings groaned and Gus opened one eye to see Shawn leaning over the edge of the bed to look down at him. "He's twenty-four, French-Canadian, a photographer and he's from Texas." Shawn recited, chuckling at the bemused look on Gus' face. "He told us what he does and where he's from, the rest is stuff I gathered on my own."

Leaning back on an elbow, Gus eyed Shawn appraisingly. "You've always been too good at noticing things about people, you know?"

"Henry wanted me to be a detective so he taught me some stuff." Shawn shrugged as best he could lying down. "So, what do you think? I thought he was a little bland and boring."

"You think most normal people are bland and boring, Shawn." Gus reasoned, and it was for the most part true.

"I love you don't, I?" Came out of his mouth before he realized how tragic it sounded and wanted to take it back. He covered it quickly with, "Besides I thought photographers were supposed to be interesting."

"The ones that took our school photos weren't." Gus argued. "They hated their jobs. Did you happen to figure out what kind of pictures he takes?"

"I'm pretty sure it's not porn, if that's what you're asking." And he grinned at the grossed-out wince on Gus' face until the thought settled in his mind too. Joy really was just like his sister. "I'm not sure but he's too young to have settled for snapping pictures of snot-nosed brats so soon."

They spent the rest of the night painting different and ever-progressing farfetched histories for Matt and what he did for a living until they fell asleep. Gus woke up in the morning, his nose pressed against the ridge of Shawn's shoulder and body stiff from having slept on the floor. How their talk ended was a blur but he was pretty sure he would've remembered watching Shawn join him on the floor.

He pulled his head back but that was as much as he moved. There was something subtly comforting about being this close to Shawn again and he didn't feel like ruining it. The long, thin lashes resting on Shawn's slack cheeks, the lines that animated his face invisible and irrelevant, the childish, small grin that resided on his face even in sleep. All these details Gus thought he'd forgotten until he'd been given this opportunity to search them out again. Shawn was beautiful, even changed and suddenly Gus didn't want to leave. Didn't want to go back to that feeling of unbalanced, blood-curdling uncertainty that left him spinning in place until he could find his footing again.

Gus wanted easy, he wanted comfort and safety. He wanted a sure-thing. So he pressed a slow kiss to Shawn's forehead, got up and gathered his bags.

* * *

><p>Gus returned to Stanford both saddened and ecstatic to be back. He would miss the comfort of home, but at the same time, upon he knew that he couldn't give up the hectic and fast-paced environment of school just because it was difficult and he couldn't express just how much he'd missed Tyler. He'd left in such a daze he didn't realize just how used to the adventure and excitement the strange and unorthodox boy brought to his life.<p>

He found said boy up on their roof smoking a cigarette and reading a newspaper. Upon seeing Gus he didn't hide his delighted confusion. "What are you doing back so soon, G?" He'd wait for the answer pulling Gus so tight into his chest neither of them could breathe properly for a moment. He pulled back and yanked Gus into his side on their metal box. "Your dad okay? I owe him big time for sending you to me to get caught in my web of curiosity's oddities."

Gus laughed and dropped his luggage on the ground of the roof. He'd been in such a rush to see Tyler that he he'd walked right past his dorm room and didn't drop off his stuff. He wasn't looking forward to seeing Mark so soon either. The smart curve of his grin, the animated lift of his brow as he spoke, the obvious excitement in his green eyes, it was like Tyler had somehow come alive before him in an instant.

"He's good, he's great actually. Bouncing back. I just can't believe he was actually sick, you know? My dad… he's always been the strong guy in our family. Fixing shelves and leaks in the pipes and lugging furniture up and down stairs all by himself. That's why I was so surprised I grew up to be such a wimp, you know? I was robbed in the gene pool, as Joy would say.""

"Joy?"

"Oh, my sister. I never told you about her? She'd four years older than me, a lawyer like my dad, and she's dating this guy Matt who I'd never met. He'd better be pretty fantastic or—"

"You'll kick his ass?" Tyler teased, skin tingling at having Gus so close again. Out of sight, out of mind was Tyler's way of life but the last two weeks had definitely been missing something. Some flare of life or the secret ingredient and Tyler had steadily spent nights partying at Josh's apartment to supplement the void. It hadn't worked very well seeing as he'd only had Gus back for a little while and he was like a dog with its tail waggin'.

"Or she'll eat him alive." Gus finished, flicking Tyler on the nose. He moved a little closer until they were arm to arm, hip to hip on the metal box and a small piece of him settled at the contact. When he'd been climbing the stairs his brain was speedily firing messages telling him to rush like Tyler would be gone if he went too slow but now that he was sitting next to him, could feel the soft hairs of Tyler's pale arm against his own he felt quieted, mollified. He could breathe now.

They just sat for a while, looking out over the campus. It felt like so long since either of them had truly watched the world from here. A long time for Gus because he'd been gone and for Tyler because going on the roof without Gus would've felt wrong. Gus closed his eyes and laid his head on Tyler's shoulder letting the rest of his body slow down.

He was almost asleep when Tyler asked, "Really, why are you back so soon? Did Shawn say something to you?" He still hadn't really gotten over what Gus had had with that 'Shawn' person. The way Gus spoke about it, just how big he made it seem, Tyler couldn't help but gather that as much as he might think of Shawn as a dick, some part of Gus would never be over him. Before it pissed him off because Gus was his friend, he was fascinating and sweet and it sucked to see him sell himself short out of guilt. Now, it pissed him off because he thought he'd made more progress with Gus in trying to bring out any selfish bone in the shy boy's body.

Gus sighed at the question but answered anyway. "Really, Shawn was great; I don't think he hates me anymore. Seeing my Mom and Shawn there and at home I saw that they'd moved on without me. The only people that ever made me feel needed had found a way to take care of each other and my Dad at the same time. I was thinking about how much I'd missed, how many ballgames, inside jokes… even the stupid neighborhood gossip I'd missed made me feel like an outsider in my own house. I mean I thought Shawn had stayed because he was stuck but now I see it's—"

"Gus, you're speaking in circles again. Just tell me why you left." Tyler whispered into the top of Gus' head. The chuckle that made his chest vibrate against Gus' cheek encouraged him to get to his point.

"Shawn made it a home of his own and the more I watched him the more I could see myself staying there and getting caught up on everything. I could see myself doing work by correspondence, settling in again and eventually transferring to Santa Barbara Community College and helping my mom clean on the weekends. I wouldn't stay on the couch for long- my mom would get Joy's bed out of storage and I'd move into the study and eventually I'd be back where I started."

"You were afraid you wouldn't want to come back." Tyler stated and Gus was too tired to register his tone.

"Yes. And once that thought set in I knew I would never get out of that place." He admitted, drawing Tyler closer to him by the waist. He wasn't sure when they'd become each other's mobile pillows but they had. It was probably around the same time that they realized they'd rather sleep on one another on a stack of backpacks on the roof rather than go down to Gus' dorm room where they'd be both warm and easily comfortable.

Swallowing down the pull of his heart at the sight of Gus burrowing further into his skin, Tyler went for humor. "You could've just said you missed me. That would've been cool too." He added a wistful voice to his words.

Gus nodded and Tyler would accept that he hadn't meant to breathe hotly against his exposed chest. "And I really missed you, Tyler."

Tyler shook his head and stared up at the blank dark canvas of their sky. They'd enjoyed it much more than anyone on the ground down their so Tyler took it upon himself to own it for Gus and for himself. "Somehow I just don't feel like your hearts really in it." He said on a dry voice.

"Oh, it's not."

Tyler slapped him gently on the back and added, "You owe me a keychain."

Nodding again, and Tyler was really starting to resent that gesture because every time Gus did that he breathed more warmly blown air on the now flushed skin of Tyler's chest and he wasn't quite allowed to enjoy that yet. Gus reached in his jeans pocket and pulled out a cheesy miniature, plastic flip-flop with the splashy words "Santa Barbara" written across it. Why he'd wanted one, Gus would never know but he'd brought it back just for this moment.

"Oh, Gus, you've made me the happiest girl in the world!" Tyler cooed, petting Gus' back and allowing his fingers to trail up and down his spine. And if the motion lured Gus further into sleep and into his chest, well that was just a coincidence.

* * *

><p>Tyler practically carried Gus back to his dorm room. He reminded himself of just how much their friendship meant before hesitantly reaching into Gus' back pocket for his keys and he unlocked the door. Opening the door, Tyler set sight on the room and he'd barely registered what he saw before Gus was rushing inside, suddenly awake. Stumbling forward into the room, Gus didn't even notice Mark at first on his bed with headphones on before he was crawling onto his own bed, fingers feeing the smoothness of the wall. His eyes looked up and down for just a single trace of the gift that had been there before and when he found nothing, Tyler saw rage on Gus for the first time.<p>

Spinning around faster than he would've thought possible, Gus pulled Mark up by his weak arm and shook him by his stupid windbreaker. "What did you do? What the fuck did you do?" He shouted voice hoarse with the volume because Gus never yelled. After a moment Tyler realized Gus rarely swore and never that word. He stood there frozen and unsure what to do. Would it be better to pull Gus out or leave him to it if it would make him feel better?

"I told you needed to get rid of them, not let your boyfriend over there," Mark shot a glare in Tyler's direction. "Decorate the room with them. They were tacky and messy and I wasn't going to spend another second looking at them."

Tyler interjected, "So you waited until he left to visit his sick dad to do something? Way to be a man, you fucking pussy."

"Oh, I'm a pussy? From what I read, Guster's the bitch that can't man up." He turned to Gus. "This girl is really hung up on you and you're here with that douche. Seems pretty fucked up keeping 'S' on the hook when you're fucking around with a guy. It figures, I mean it must be pretty hard to man up when you're taking it up the ass all the time."

Any sign of life left Gus' eyes and before Tyler felt the rage fueling his blood, Gus reared his fist back and slammed Mark in the noise with a loud cracking sound. Maybe it was the sight of blood gushing from Mark's nose or his screaming but something shoved Gus back into his body. Staring down at Mark clutching his face, Gus' eyes widened and Tyler noticed the beginning of a freak out.

Well this won't end well, Tyler thought. Throwing the smaller boy in the hallway until he could be bothered, he shut and locked the door.

Mark had mistaken Tyler's quiet calm in the face of Gus' fury for unthreatening and he'd regret that. Staring down at the bleeding and spitting mess on the bed, Tyler bit back the urge to finish what Gus had started. He knew he had to bite back the urge because he knew that's what _he_ would've wanted, not the all-knowing Saint Guster that he prayed to when he tried to be a better person. No matter what Gus had been feeling at the time, he wouldn't feel that way later.

Sitting down next to Mark on the bed, Tyler pulled a duffle back out from underneath Mark's twin bed. He played with the strap, tightening and loosening it, making it shorter and longer before he took a deep breath and lunged. He had Mark's hands wrapped in the strap, his other hand crushing the chubby kid's chin in a locked position. He scrambled to move, to speak but Tyler held resolutely, jamming a knee in Mark's bony ribs. "You're going to go over to Housing and tell them that there was a problem at home. You're going to find somewhere else to stay, off campus, for the rest of term. If I ever see your face again I'll mess you up so bad you won't know what the fuck you're looking at in the mirror. Nod for me Marky." And it was a little sick the way he moved Mark's head up and down like a demented puppet. "Are you ever going to see Gus again?" He grinned as he shook Mark's head from side to side. "Good boy. Now up you get. Time to pack up and get out."

Mark looked up at him, still panicked and blinked rapidly. "Good." Tyler smiled and got to his feet, bearing down on Mark's ribs as he did. He was almost to the door before turning around and adding, "As proud as I am of Gus, you give him credit for that facial improvement and then you'll really be scared of me."

Gus was still stewing outside but Tyler managed to drag him down the hall to the common room while Mark packed his shit and left. Gus hoped for good and Tyler was sure it was. He planned on asking Gus to live with him next year anyway but he hadn't wanted to give Mark the pleasure of Gus being the one to leave.

"That was quite a mark you left." Was the only thing Tyler said about it.

"Gusters have mean right hooks. It comes with the genes." And only Gus could say that without bragging.


	5. Of Understanding and Coconut Shell Bras

A/N: Hi guys, sorry for the delay both in this story and "Before the Worst". I've gotten hopelessly caught up with school but I'm vowing to be better about posting. Hopefully you don't get too mad at me :) Thanks to everyone for reading/reviewing/lurking, you guys mean the world to me.

Oh and in response to inquiries about Tyler, (laffertyluver23), he's pretty much indefinable. I think fluid is a good word.

* * *

><p>Admitting that he was sick was one thing; admitting that he needed help was another concept entirely for William Guster. He tried his best to swallow that he needed help getting dressed in the morning, he needed help getting down the stairs, and he couldn't just climb in his car whenever he wanted to go somewhere. The worst of all was that his wife had stopped looking at him with that undefeatable assurance that he could do anything, fix anything; she didn't look at him like he was her superman anymore. Now he was her project, her patient. There was no doubt in his mind that she still loved him more than anything, but to be looked at that way by his family and not just his doctors was discomforting.<p>

This unsettling new role was the basis for Mr. Guster waking up one morning and forcing himself out of bed and down the stairs. He was seriously winded and he'd stumbled a few times but he made it to the foyer. Shawn came around the corner half-upset and half-awed to see him. "Mr. G what are you doing down here? You know I would've helped you get out—"

Shaking his head, Mr. G wondered if he would've preferred the days when Shawn thought of him as villain and not a damn invalid. "That is exactly why I had to do this on my own."

Shawn gave a smile and conceded. "Doesn't feel so good when others do things for you, does it?"

Mr. G shook his head in agreement and for a moment, the twinkle in his eye returned. "My wife won't be hearing about this will she?"

Shawn started towards the front door. "Hear about what? Now quit your yapping, Old Man and let's get started on this car outside. I want her up and running by the time you're clear to drive again." He slipped on his Converse and took his time tying and retying them so the time it took for Mr. G to make it outside didn't seem so daunting.

They stopped in front of the garage where a black, rusty, faded Mustang sat staring back at them. She needed a lot of work but compared to the "clunker" Shawn had before. Staring at what Mrs. G lovingly titled the "Death Trap" Mr. G shook his head. "You're regretting that bet now, huh Mr. G?" Shawn teased, surprised at how easy it still was to pretend nothing between them had changed. Act like the eldest Guster hadn't come so close to dying mere weeks ago.

Mr. G shook his head. "A deal is a deal. You fix her up and get her running and I will take you out for ice cream in Old Betsy."

"No way! I fix her up and you'll drive me _out_ to get ice cream." He ran a hand along the faded edge of the car. "When I'm done with this baby there's no way I'm chancing chocolate fudge stains on the upholstery. She's gonna sparkle for the rest of her days."

"In your dreams, Little Man." Mr. G laughed a pet Shawn on the back. He later pulled Shawn in for a hug and used that as an excuse to lean on the younger man. Shawn didn't mind, he was lost in thought over the nickname.

* * *

><p>For the fifth time in their friendship, Tyler took Gus out to a party at Josh's apartment. Though this time, they stayed together for most of it. The other times Gus had been out with Tyler, they split up almost immediately; Tyler going to find Josh and catch up on the latest gossip and Gus was left to hang out with some of the girls he'd met at other parties. They loved him for reasons he didn't quite get but it was still nice to be liked.<p>

That night, Gus had started off by heading to find Greta, one of the girls he'd met and rescued from one of Tyler's rants on why nudity should be allowed everywhere complete with attempted demonstration. He had just started in on a greeting when he noticed Tyler's head on his shoulder. Deciding he was just in one of those huggy moods, Gus continued with his conversation although the quirk of Greta's brow was a little accusatory.

"How've you been?" He asked, taking a sip of the punch in his cup. As a reward for saving her from Tyler, Greta promised to save a cup of unspiked punch for Gus whenever she got a chance. After the ambiguous descriptions of that first night, Gus vowed never to get drunk in front of Tyler again. This way, he appeared to be drinking like everyone else and Tyler got to feel like he was helping.

"Not as good as you've been." Greta quipped, nodding at Tyler. He scoffed breath wet and hot against the shell of Gus' ear. "You've been holding out on me Gus."

Gus didn't quite process the meaning behind her tone because he'd unfortunately jerked his head at the feel of Tyler's breath on his ear and that was a rookie mistake. Let Tyler get the slightest clue something he'd done had gotten to you meant that he wouldn't stop doing it for the rest of the night. Continuing with Greta only got more difficult with Tyler breathing warm air and eventually words into Gus' ear.

Tyler kept trying to distract Gus' conversation and he did even better once he realized it was boring small talk. "You're bored Gus, I can tell. You're doing that thing where you count out your syllables with your fingers. Don't worry, I'll make it interesting."

Ignoring him like a toddler with a tantrum, Gus kept talking, halting the motion of his fingers. "Yeah, well Tyler has problems. Someone said we were attached at the hip and he took it a bit seriously."

Greta smirked and took a sip from Gus' cup. "Yeah well he's never been that way with anyone else." She supplied and swallowed a laugh at Tyler's antics.

"I'm not touching you." He panted, the temperature finally getting to Gus. He started to feel hot and his heart was pumping harder. "I'm not touching you." Tyler sang.

"Tyler… stop it." Gus demanded, finally recognizing that seemingly foreign feeling in the pit of his stomach. It wasn't annoyance it was the makings of arousal and Gus hadn't felt that since… he hadn't felt it for a long time. He supposed he should've felt relieved seeing as he hadn't felt it in a long time and he'd begun to think he'd inadvertently become a celibate.

"Stop what, Gus? What exactly am I doing?" He panted harder, if possible and Gus had to step away. The nerve endings in his skin were going haywire and at the rate he was going, he'd be standing in the middle of the party with an erection and inadequate explanation for it. Then he'd be 'That Kid'.

He stared up at the clearly satisfied Tyler, eyes alit with mirth. Shaking his head, Gus gestured for Greta to follow him to a quieter corner of the party. She beamed and took his hand gladly, leaving Tyler watching them with a strange expression on his face.

"Gus, you know that I like you right?" She asked nervously and Gus wasn't sure how to interpret that. Greta was gorgeous, and funny and sweet and she didn't act at all like Kate Oliver had last year. He shuddered at the memory of that wounded look on her face that day in the hallway.

"What?"

Now she was outwardly laughing at him. "Gus I don't I could've been more obvious." She reached up and poked him in the cheek playfully. "You can take me out for dinner Friday night."

And Gus kind of that it wasn't a question but he'd never done anything like this before. The closest he'd ever come to going out to dinner with a girl were study dates with Kara and even then he'd been whatever he was with Shawn so he was pretty sure that didn't count. Then again, Tyler was all about trying new things and it worked for him. "Uh, okay, sure."

She kissed him on the cheek in the blink of an eye and then she was gone, leaving Tyler to reluctantly return. Comprehension on his face as he asked, "What just happened? Greta looked pretty self-satisfied and more than her usual 'I just convinced virginal girls from Ohio that going down on each other was what Jesus wanted' look."

Gus ignored the second half. "I'm going on a date Friday."

Grin falling on the left, "With me because I gotta tell you Gus, I don't appreciate short notice but what the hell—"

"With Greta." And now the grin had fallen completely. Blinking rapidly, Gus cocked his head and stared at Tyler sideways. He was used to Tyler's unusual assumptions but that he hadn't thought twice about going on an honest to God with Gus was a surprise. The thickness in the air between appeared just in time for the mood to shift over from awkwardness to confusion.

"You must be joking—" Tyler's eyebrows disappeared into his wayward curls.

"Why? I go on dates you know. Granted I haven't lately but that's just because I've been really busy—"

"You don't date girls, Gus." There, he'd said it and bluntly as well. Really, he'd grown into the fact that there were obstacles keeping him from having Gus the way he really wanted to, namely the huge 'Shawn' boundary. To add this new venture just made it easier to fail and if Tyler wanted a true shot, he had to scratch this idea out right now.

"But I could. I never really tried it." He suggested calmly and it only made Tyler more desperate to get his way.

"You've never tried crystal meth either; why don't you give that a try first?" He eyed the dangerous gleam in Gus' eye and back-tracked. "Look, Gus obviously this isn't your forte so why don't you give me some time to work my magic?"

"Magic?"

Planting a seriously flawed grin on his face, "I'll help you get ready that afternoon okay? Trust me." He brushed his lips on the corner of Gus' forehead and started to leave the party. "Trust me."

"Where are you going?" The party had just begun, after all. This was the point when Tyler took it upon himself to get royally wasted, leaving Gus to drag him home.

"No time." He threw over his shoulder and Gus wouldn't see him until Friday.

* * *

><p>The next postcard came but didn't join its brothers and sisters. It sat in the shoebox underneath Gus' bed all on its own. On the back, in surprisingly neat and slanted handwriting, the words "I need you here" stared taunting, judgmentally up at Gus upon first viewing. The first view because Gus returned to it every now and again and considered calling. He never followed through and honestly, Shawn wasn't sure what he expected to get out of sending it.<p>

He'd written it the day he entered the study, looking for a CD and instead found Mr. G reading a small stack of paper. Henry's lessons still in the back of his mind, Shawn made out the words "Will and Testament" before a part of his brain blocked it out. Pasting on a smile, Shawn stepped up and made sure to stub his toe on the shelf near the door.

"Oh, hey Mr. G? Ready to come help me with Old Betsy? I just need some music for the stereo in the garage so we can avoid pleasant conversation." He joked but even Mr. G couldn't pretend his voice hadn't thinned.

He looked up at the visibly shaking teenager and tried to figure out how to play this out. Admit it and he ran the risk of making his last days timid and awkward. Lie and they'd remain in denial which ran the risk of the child resenting him when the end came. "Shawn, listen I'm—"

Shawn turned around, his hair falling to cover his face. "Slowing me down. You taught me to make the most out of the day so move it or lose it, Mr. G. I've got a bet to win and I'm running out of time." He told himself he was being stupid when he choked on his words.

Hearing Mr. G hauling himself up from his desk, Shawn hoped he was going to help him pretend everything was okay. He hoped that he wasn't going to make Shawn acknowledge the possibility of someone else ditching him. "When you get her running, you better eat all the mint chocolate chip you can, for me, okay?"

"I won't have to because you'll be there." Shawn supplied, turning around when he thought he had his face controlled. The sympathetic shift in Mr. G's features told him he was unsuccessful.

Mr. G looked down at his desk, hands shaking where they were giving him balance. "Shawn, I think at this point we have to accept—"

"Accept nothing but the best; you taught me that!" Shawn roared, running forward and picking up the paper. "This—this is not the best. This is the worst possible outcome." He'd never felt more childish than in that moment when his lip started to quiver and tears ran fresh and hot from his eyes.

"Son, I—"

"Don't call me that!" He snapped, throwing the papers to the floor where they scattered like those brightly colored pamphlets in Stanford colors. "You're setting yourself up to fail; just like I did. How is this different?" And he knew exactly how but he needed to hear Mr. G say it. Admit it out loud. His chest was heaving and his breath was coming quick and fast but he refused to acknowledge the tears burning the corners of his eyes.

"I wish I could give you this, but I can't. This is the cost of a full life and I can only hope that one day you will understand." Fighting, it took everything Shawn had to accept that hug that felt more like goodbye than anything in his life. He was so thin, so much frailer than Shawn remembered from his childhood and it finally registered just how sick Mr. G was. Just how much of a miracle it was that he'd held on for so long. Then Shawn truly felt how irrelevant he was to all of this. It had become obvious that the world had a habit of taking back whatever he got.

It felt like he was giving up.

* * *

><p>"Okay, so when you arrive at the restaurant, what do you do?" Tyler asked giddily as he threw half of the clothes in his own closet at Gus' face. The younger boy sat cross legged on the bed, staring up at him quizzically.<p>

"Pull out her chair for her?" He suggested, getting a mouthful of colorful ties for his answer.

"Yes. Then what?" Tyler asked, starting on his dress shirts in the back of the closet. He had clothes from all over the world, clothes for different occasions from Hawaiian themed parties to Bar Mitzvah's courtesy of his parents showing him off as much as possible in two years. They'd been so generous and giving so naturally he felt it necessary to return the favor in spirit by treating Gus like a naked doll.

"Then we eat. I don't know. With Shawn we never really went out and when we did it was almost always to blow something up." Gus admitted.

Ignoring the stab of jealousy, Tyler gave him the answer. "Then you make pleasant small talk until the waiter comes. Never order for her unless it feels like she wants you to. Knowing the She-beast, she'll want to order for _you_." He bit his lip, thinking. "You know this might work out, Gussie. She's more manly than both of us. Maybe if you just pretend it won't feel that weird. You know until you get to the bedroom and discover you're not bigger than her down there. I've seen her hands, Gus and she'd got a _huge_-" He got a pillow to the face for his trouble.

"Shut up." He looked at the quickly growing pile of clothes around where he sat in bed; from coconut shell bras to white tuxedo shirts. "Why are you throwing your wardrobe at me?"

"You weren't planning on wearing that were you?" He gestured to the button down shirt and khakis Gus was wearing.

"What's wrong with it? Did you want me to wear these?" He held up a pair of big green sunglasses with large shamrocks for lenses.

Tyler rolled his eyes and snatched them up. "You look ridiculous." His stern tone offset by the grass skirt and feather boas he was sporting. "You need to master the art of dressing down, Gus."

"This is down." He frowned, tempting Tyler to take it back. But if he was going to be unselfish, he had to help Gus. Even if it was to help him impress the succubus.

"That's sad." He dug into the pile, fighting every opportunity to meet Gus' eye. He finally found a lavender button down near the bottom. He offered it, "Try this on."

To say Tyler caught his breath at Gus ripping his shirt off to follow orders would barely cover the arousal arising in the pit of his stomach. The scrawny teenager was all lean muscle, his back facing where Tyler stood trying to keep from reaching out to touch the dark, heated skin in front of him. He clenched and unclenched his grasp on a blinking, lit t-shirt in the pile of clothes. His teeth released hold on his bottom lip in a snap as Gus spun around in the light purple shirt.

"How does it look?" Gus asked, unaware of the sheen to Tyler's green gaze. "Stupid? Great? Somewhere in between?"

Swallowing thickly Tyler nodded his head and slumped down on the pile. "You look fine Gus. You better hurry or you'll be late."

Sparing him a quick glance, Gus studied his watch before hurrying into the hall. "Thanks so much, Ty. Tell you about it later!" He called but Tyler wasn't listening.

In his bedroom he slowly pulled off his grass skirt and the feather boas. Looking out to the startling quiet of his room, he asked aloud, "What now?"

* * *

><p>If Gus was being honest, the second a waitress came from the back of the restaurant with a phone, he knew it was for him. Whether he had some freaky keen intuition or because it was a Friday night and Tyler had a habit of getting sloppy drunk on Fridays, he didn't know but he practically waved her over the second she started in his direction. She paused at his table, giving Greta a sympathetic nod before handing him the receiver. Later Gus would look back and feel guilt at the fact that he didn't spare his date a second look in answering the call.<p>

Who was Gus to think that for once, just once Tyler could follow through with something he promised. Even if he thought Gus was making a stupid, experimental mistake. Even if he'd gone on and on about Greta's past dating ventures that had all ended in "felonious behavior or getting girls kicked out of religious organizations for bad conduct". Even if he'd flat-out told Gus that he'd rather see Gus lip-locked with Shawn any day than hand him off to Greta's "venereal diseased and talon like" grip.

So when he answered the call, he started with "I knew you would do this. You know I wish you would stop promising to do things for me if you know there's the slightest chance it'll come back to haunt me."

The obvious sounds of a party filtered through and it was quiet for a moment before a confused, gruff voice came through. "Gus? This is Josh."

"Oh, hey… what's up?" He couldn't remember if he'd ever had an actual conversation with Josh. One where he wasn't stoned to the point he was seeing fairies hovering over the beer pong table.

"Not much." The thump of the music in the background and Josh's breathing.

More awkward. "Did you call for a reason?"

"Oh, yeah, yeah." The phone shuffled and Josh laughed at something mumbled on his end. "Yeah, I need you to take Tyler home. He's totally wasted. Started drinking at two and passed out at... sometime after that. He's still breathin'."

"That's good." Gus said distractedly, pulling on his jacket and pulled out his wallet. Greta looked up at him, unsurprised understanding instead of irritated disappointment on her face.

He didn't know why he bothered explaining. If he had a dollar for every time he sacrificed something new for something old, he would be able to pay someone else to have these issues. "Listen, I gotta go. I'm so sorry but Tyler's—"

"It's okay, Gus."

"He's not usually like this." He lied. "Maybe we can do this again another time—"

She waved him off, briefest of grins on her face. "You're cute, not stupid, Gus. We make lunch plans, Tyler'll get the flu. We go out for coffee, he'll show up there. You hold my hand; he'll want your other one."

She stood up, pressing her glossy lips to his for a slow moment. Enough to taste the sweet strawberry flavor tinged with the soft drinks they'd barely enjoyed before the call had come, enough for Gus to tell that he might've really enjoyed this if he didn't have two roguish, separate entities pulling him in opposite directions. When she pulled back, she was taller, more beautiful, face framed with auburn locks; put-together. She didn't need him right now and Tyler did.

* * *

><p>Gus found him outside, a few yards down the sidewalk from Josh's apartment. He had to run to catch up and by the time he did, the brisk air made it a little difficult to catch his breath. Stomping his way up the street, Tyler was singing some warped version of "Creep" and scaring other pedestrians as he did and Gus started to wonder if alcohol made anyone a better person.<p>

"Tyler, wait up, will you?" Gus called, cautiously touching the taller boy's shoulder. As expected, Tyler flinched away and turned around annoyed. He instantly shoved at Gus and backed up until they were a few feet apart.

Gus wavered, taking a few steps back to get his balance. "What's your problem?" Despite every gentle bone in his body, Gus forced himself forward into Tyler's space. Contact was the only thing Tyler knew how to react to, so Gus was going to give that to him.

Tyler pushed at him again, uncoordinated and unusually clumsy, he fought until it set in that Gus was not drunk and could easily win if this went overboard. "You and all your issues that never seem to be your fault. You've been hurt so many times and yet you're still so strong, blah, blah, blah. Why can't I be that way, Gus? Why can't I be more like _you_?" Tyler muttered sarcastically, eyes bright and mocking.

Gus said nothing until Tyler stepped closer, much, much closer and the mood had become dangerous. "I'm just trying to help you." He whispered, frightened for the first time. It was only as the expressions settled on Tyler's face that he realized he wasn't scared of Tyler hurting him; he was scared that he would end this crazy chaotic friendship Gus had become hopelessly fond of.

"You're fucking with my head and I don't know what to do." Tyler admitted and let the exhaustion take over. He sat down on the black iron fence lining the sidewalk and let his head fall in his hands. Sensing an ending, Gus tried to head it off.

"Slow down. Can we slow down?" He kneeled in front of Tyler and stared determinedly at him until his gaze was returned, albeit wearily. Quirking a small grin. "I'm not mad you ruined my date."

"Great." Tyler breathed. "I would've been."

"Nah, you wouldn't of. You love me" Gus countered, still looking up as if Tyler held their fragile calm in his hands. Sighing he let his dark curls fall into his face, effectively trapping Gus out for a moment until his deft hands palmed Tyler's knees.

"What's wrong? You're worse than usual."

Closing his eyes to the barrage of wonderful things that could start with Gus' hands on his knees and ending with horrid thoughts of what could start with Greta where he was. He shuddered, "I don't want you to leave."

"I won't." He insisted, adamant enough that Tyler almost believed it.

Doubt flitted behind Tyler's eyes and he sighed heavily. "I did you a favor." He chuckled dryly and smiled without a trace of humor. "She was all wrong for you."

"Of course." Taking a lesson from Tyler's book, Gus figured it'd be easier on Tyler if he just let him explain without interruption.

"The only time I ever let someone in, apart from you, I got my heart utterly _demolished_ and I went a little crazy." Tyler admitted and hoped that Gus would let him stop there. But when had hope ever got him anywhere?

"A little?" The heat of his palms on Tyler's knees made his head a little fuzzy and the older boy almost missed what Gus had asked.

"I completely lost it? My parents both died when I was three; I grew up in foster care where your worth is in how long your placements last and I had a lot of 'em." He snuck a glance at Gus biting his cheek and knew Gus was waiting to say or ask something but he wouldn't because he thought Tyler wanted him to be quiet. It was the opposite really. When Gus talked, complained, babbled it made everything seem in place, seem okay. "Gus, just spit it out, I shoved you into a fire hydrant for God's sake. You should've socked me in the face by now." That was as much of an apology Gus could hope for.

Gus didn't take the second offer but sat down next to Tyler, allowing the older boy to let out a heavy breath. After only a second's hesitation, he let his head fall on Tyler's shoulder and took the victory when he wasn't shoved off. "Were they mean to you?"

"No… well, most of them weren't. Most of them were kind but they just didn't have the time or the will to deal with me for longer than a few months. It may be hard to believe but I didn't always have the cuteness you value so much, Gus." He pinched Gus' cheek. The genuine smile he felt there put something back in place in Tyler's heart and he went on with his story.

"I think I was on my seventeenth placement when I got to the Mannings. Kenneth and Michelle were pretty much the nicest family I'd ever been with. They made me dinner every night, and not from a box. They had two dogs, Rosco and Rocket, and they treated me like I belonged from the day I stepped into that house." He sighed heavily. "She lived across the street from them. She used to come over every day to walk Rosco and Rocket. And she was beautiful, Gus. She had long, straight, black hair and this loud, amazingly weird laugh that, on anyone else, would've annoyed the hell out of me but it didn't. I didn't just fall in love with her; I was obsessed with her.

"She was just as into me and when you're that young, having something that intense is everything. When we fought I couldn't see straight, when she smiled it was like… that first rush taking ecstasy… and when we broke up, and we did that a lot, it felt like my heart would never beat the same again. But that was love to me. I was supposed to feel those things and for a rent-a-kid like me, that was my first experience with that emotion. Loving someone and having them love you back was a dream I didn't know I'd had until I had it.

"I let myself got caught up in these stupid ideas that we would spend the rest of our lives together at fucking fifteen. Fifteen… I was an idiot." He laughed, didn't even feel the tears that had slipped down his cheek. "So, when she got pregnant, I was ecstatic. I thought, 'this is my chance at a family'. We would have a little girl, Hannah, with hair like her mom and my eyes and we'd live at my house with my dogs and my family and everything would just be perfect. I didn't see any flaw in my plan and I wouldn't let anyone tell me different."

He stopped, and tried to talk past the ball in his throat so Gus took his hand and squeezed. "What happened?"

"I planned everything out and it didn't live up to my expectations." He unknowingly pulled Gus closer to his side. "She was pretty messed up and I knew that but all I saw was my chance to give someone the life I'd never had. And all those TV movies make it seem like you get pregnant, you get married and everything's fine. What they don't tell you is that when your girlfriend treats her body like shit, you can lose the baby. They don't show that," He swallowed thickly, having given up on trying to maintain a clear face. "so they don't have to explain how hard it is to have no control, no way to _make_ her care about herself or to make her _see_ herself, love herself the way that I did… to have to watch my baby _die_ and not be able to stop loving her. Even if it was her fault."

His voice stuttered away as he finally gave way to the sobs breaking out. Feeling helpless to do anything but hold onto Tyler's shoulders as he cried, Gus tried his hardest to shield Tyler from the cold of the night and his past. Warm, wet tears soaked into the thin cotton of Gus' collar as the haunted whines slowed enough for Tyler to try to speak again, as hoarse as it was. "She was just a stupid kid but we were both just stupid kids. She was all I had left and I could barely stand to look at her."

"What about your family?" Gus asked, still processing the story.

"They still call and write me letters. They care about me and I love them as much as I can but their house is _right there_ across from hers. I can't go back; not for good." He finished. "So… I don't plan anymore. Plans just set you up for disappointment."

Gus pulled back but let Tyler keep his hand. "That's how it ended?"

"I went crazy. When I found out what happened, I didn't eat anything for days. I spent all my time inside my room picturing where the crib would've gone, the color paint I would've used, what her voice would've sounded like. I was stuck in that mindset of what would've happened if… just _if_. It got so bad the Mannings had to have me committed to keep me from hurting myself. It tore Michelle in two having to do it but I'm glad she did it; I mean she could've just sent me back but she didn't. The neighborhood found out, later than I thought, but none of them ever heard the part about Han— about the baby. Until you. Kinda fucked up, though, isn't it? Without that part it just looks like we broke up and I went nuclear."

"I'm so sorry." Gus said after a moment.

Tyler pulled him into a tight hug and laughed. "No you're not, Gus. You're upset that it happened to me but you don't know what to say to make me feel better."

Nodding into the taller man's neck the scent of the roof filled Gus' nose again and he couldn't help place a kiss to the center of Tyler's chest. He hoped immediately after he'd done it that Tyler hadn't felt it. "What should I say?"

A shout of a laugh and the true smile returned. "I don't know either. How about: I still want to be friends with you even though I think you're a fucking head-case." He suggested, expecting Gus to just laugh it off with him.

Pulling back, Gus made sure to look him in the eye when he spoke. "I don't think you're a head-case and I do still want to be your friend. You make me a better person."

"Because my friendship is like charity?" Tyler joked but his voice fell flat and rather that was from the stuttered beating in his heart or fear, he wasn't sure.

"Because you have to teach me to be selfish and I have to teach you its okay to want things." He explained. Tyler wasn't sure if he wanted to shove Gus again or pull him tighter and kiss him again. He was still deciding when the words slipped out.

"I'm afraid to need you around."

Gus didn't skip a beat. "I get that." And Tyler didn't think he did.


	6. John Travolta and Kara Green

A/N:Out of curiosity, what do you guys think will happen in the end?

* * *

><p>Tyler decided he would have to meet Shawn the day he realized just how much of a catalyst he was. He'd dragged Gus over to his place one day to have a Quentin Tarantino marathon and they'd ended up in his bed surrounded by blankets and popcorn. To this day Tyler couldn't say why he'd asked.<p>

"What's it like having a best friend?" He wouldn't meet Gus' eyes and preferred to instead concentrate on the credits rolling across the screen.

It was a wonder he hadn't dozed off in the middle of the film, well maybe it wasn't given that no matter how exhausted he was from his new job at the film store, the sounds of repeated gun shots would be enough to keep an Ambien overdoser awake. He didn't know why the sounds of Samuel L. Jackson angrily quoting biblical scripture had seemed like a good film choice at the time he'd been tiredly scanning the isles of the Movie Haus but he could still see his tan, thin forearm reaching out for the video tape anyway. Maybe it had been inadvertently located next to Rain Man and he'd been too tired to see straight. Yeah, Rain Man was more Gus' speed.

Responding a little later than usual, Gus shrugged and threw a few popcorn kernels into his mouth. Munching away happily he turned away from the carnage for a moment to look at Tyler. "Isn't Josh your best friend?"

Worn out or not, the words formed an odd feeling of wrongness in the pit of his stomach. Mimicking Gus and shrugging, he sank down deeper into their pile of blankets and warmth. He should've been burning up from the heat of their semi-blanket canopy but he felt comforted and swaddled. Exactly where he wanted to be when he finally did drift off into slumber. "Not really. I'm not even sure why we're friends. I met him through this guy Jake and he hooked me up with Josh at first to buy pot and later on to sneak me into the upperclassmen parties with all the good booze. Come to think of it, that's kinda what I'm doing with you."

"Except I don't smoke."

"Nope. You don't do anything us normal folks do for a good time. I bet your idea of a good time is studying the scientific fallacies of Star Trek and debating them with other Trekkies." Tyler noted, grinning when Gus tossed down his shirt. He was waiting for the warmth surrounding him to go away. "I didn't think it was possible to have a best friend. I thought that was something you saw on television but it didn't exist in real life. Shawn's the only person from Santa Barbara you talk about besides your parents."

"I had other friends."

Defensive for many reasons, none of which he was going to go into with Tyler criticizing his friendship. Joy used to tease them for being so close, when she was sixteen and he was thirteen, before he even knew what the word "gay" meant, before it was a thing to be. She walked in on them once making up new rules to Candyland because Shawn was mad that Gus was winning so often. They would play the sheriffs of Candyland, fighting off the game pieces trying to invade their sugar-laced world with gumdrops and peppermint canes. His big sister had come up behind them and knocked their heads together, laughing about how "Gay it was for them to make a world where they were the only ones allowed" and she'd laughed even harder when she noticed the little toothpick sign at the top of the Candy Mountain marking where their house would go. Gus was only thirteen, naïve but wizened to know when people were making fun of him. He fought the childish urge to give in the tears stinging at the back of his eyes and blew up at Shawn, calling him stupid for coming up with the idea; he threw the board at him and stormed out of his room.

Later, after Shawn had resigned to leaving, declaring that they were "in a fight and that means we don't talk until you admit that you're being a dumbass", Gus went back to his room, cleaned up the mess and kicked the toothpick sign underneath his bed.

"Like who?"

"Kara Green and Kate Oliver." And after a beat, "And Michael Clary and Jason Cunningham." He bit the inside of his cheek and for the first time realized that in comparison, his list was made up of one friend and three acquaintances, the last three disasters of epic proportions. He hadn't been unpopular, even after the "Clary the Fairy" debacle, he'd been voted "Most Likely to Succeed", he'd been Class President, and he'd been salutatorian. High school hadn't sucked for him but when it came to letting himself be close to others, he'd never gotten anywhere as close with anyone as he had with Shawn. Maybe those friendships came once in a lifetime and by pushing it further they had ruined it. For good.

"What were they like?"

Leaning back, absently watching the movement on the screen as John Travolta's ponytail caught his eye. "Well Kara was brilliant. Valedictorian and I swear she only beat me by a hair. She was funny in kind of a dark way. She used to tell me I had blinders when it came to people and that was why most people liked me and thought she was a serious bitch." Tyler chuckled and urged him to go on. "We still talk sometimes. She went to Brown to study law but she still finds time to send me letters and she calls every once in a while to check up on me. I swear out of my family and friends she was the most excited for me to come here."

"She sounds really supportive."

"She is. She's fearless too. She's short and small but if you're rude to her, like say something mean or put someone down she'll put you in your place, no matter how much bigger you are than her. And she'll tell it like it is—tell you the truth even when you don't wanna hear it."

"What about the other ones, Kate, Michael and Jason."

"They're a little more complicated." And they were—having slowly faded out of his life. He wasn't sure why he'd let them slip, well with Jason he understood. Michael, well Gus wasn't sure he could even call him an acquaintance. They'd been pretty good friends before everything got messy. "Kate was really sweet and … a romantic at heart. She wrote poetry and started a literary magazine at school. Michael graduated two years before me and I don't really know what happened to him after that. He was really smart too, graduated at the top of his class. And Jason Cunningham… we went to camp together and he was bit… weird. I guess you could say we were friends."

"Weird? Weirder than me?" Tyler asked and Gus realized that they'd sat through half an hour of the movie just talking. And Tyler was actually listening to what he was saying. That fact alone made his mouth dry up and every sentence he ran through in his mind sounded stupid.

"Okay, not weird but... different. I don't know how to describe him; he was the first kid that ever liked me." He still remembers the slight chubby kid running up to him in front of Henry Spencer's pick-up truck and handing him a crudely made friendship bracelet made of braided together strings and beads. Yeah, he remembered Jason to be slightly overeager but he'd chocked it up to him being nervous about camp being over. Shawn shot that idea down by telling him Jason had probably spent the time in between summer's jacking off at the thought of Gus wearing a bracelet made of his own hair.

He wrinkled his brow now, realizing why he'd thrown that bracelet somewhere in his room of "Never to Be Found Again Land".

Tyler bumped Gus' hand in the popcorn bowl and eyed him with barely contained speculation. "I highly doubt that. Summer camp is all about finding new friends. Unless you mean he '_like_-liked" you." He chuckled at the thought, stopping when he noticed Gus wasn't laughing with him. "He _like_-liked you?" Cringing inwardly he backtracked, "Forget that I'm nineteen and I just asked that, okay? For me, please?"

"Nope. Catalogued." He tapped a finger to his temple. "I didn't think so but that's what Shawn told me. I thought he was just being mean because I ditched him in the piñata contest to work with Jason but a couple summers after that Jason started acting weird—"

"There goes that word again." Tyler admonished and Gus rescinded although with a bit of irritation.

"Different from the norm. He kept trying to get me to go to the events with him. Which was okay because he was pretty funny when you got over his obsession with his insect collection. But when we walked into the "End of the Summer Dance" and he tried to hold my hand… I don't know, it was just that no one had ever done that before except my mom when I was crossing the street or when I was home in bed because I'd gotten pneumonia or my asthma was really bad."

Green eyes dimming a bit as he frowned, Tyler pushed a stray curl out of his face to better study Gus. He'd had foster brothers and sisters with asthma. Knew enough to know when it was mild, it was manageable and when it was bad, it was _bad_. "You stopped being friends after that?"

"Sort of." Gus admitted honestly, unsure why Tyler looked so uncomfortable. They'd drifting further and further into each other while they were talking but if that was causing him discomfort, he would've scooted away earlier.

"Sort of?" Tyler teased, skin feeling hot all of the sudden.

"We just grew out of each other. We used to send letters in the summer after we got too old for camp. They just… stopped after junior year. Last I heard, he wanted to study theater at NYU." He paused, wondering where the box of those letters had ended up. If they'd been thrown around his carpet along with the letters from Stanford. "I hope he did."

"You stopped hanging out with him because he liked you?" Tyler deduced, feeling twitchy and too big for his skin. Gus shrugged, figuring for himself.

"It had more to do with how Shawn felt about it than how I did."

Tyler bit at a fingernail, hands shaking a bit. "He chose your friends?"

"He doesn't have to." He grasped for the right words. "He has this way of making you do what he wants without telling you to. Like, if he didn't like someone, he wouldn't even say anything mean but you just knew. Sometimes it sucked but I liked making him happy and what did I care if he was my only real friend? He was nice to me and he knew me the best." He frowned a bit at the sneer on Tyler's face.

"I don't like that. It makes you that geeky kid that let a hunky quarterback copy his homework because in between unhooking your bra and taking your virginity, he might tell people he knows you."

"Hey!" He shoved at Tyler and grew slightly frustrated when he didn't budge. It wasn't like that… at least he'd never seen it that way.

"Am I wrong?" He cocked an eyebrow. "He wasn't keeping people away from you?"

"I don't know, I guess. I was never really good with people, anyway." He excused but it was obvious Tyler wasn't buying it. "We only got so close because he doesn't take 'no' for an answer. We were forced together and he didn't _have_ to be my friend but he wanted to anyway." He remarked, smiling a bit at the memory.

The smirk was too flattering on Gus for Tyler to be jealous of the cause. Instead, he reached out and snatched Gus' hand from the popcorn bowl and laced their slippery fingers together. "Want to be my best friend?"

Thinking for a moment, Gus eventually gave a slow nod and said, "Why not?"

* * *

><p>The greatest surprise awaiting Shawn one cold November morning was not just running into Kara Green at the grocery store while shopping for dinner materials. He'd gotten the hang of this cooking thing, even helping Mrs. G to perfect some of famous recipes. He'd mustered up a few of his own and if the gleaming approval in Mr. G's eyes was anything to go by, he'd had some rewarding successes. Cooking took his mind off of what he called the "Don't Touch Categories"; namely "Gus, Gus, Mr. G's health, his own Future, and Gus." What did it matter that he didn't know what he wanted to do with the rest of his life when he could set a freshly baked, pristine and aromatically pleasing Apple Pie on the kitchen counter and proudly say that he'd made that, from scratch. He couldn't do a lot to fix some of the rough spots in his life, but he could make something pleasing to the eye and taste buds and that was something.<p>

What made running into Kara Green such a surprise was the added realization that it was November. Thanksgiving was right around the corner and that meant Christmas was speeding towards him. The holidays meant Gus would be coming back home. Back to him. He nearly mowed a petite girl down with his shopping cart.

"Hey, watch it. I could've been seriously injured and I would've had you served with a court order faster than they could say 'spill on aisle seven'." Her eyes finally traveled all the way up to Shawn's face, recognition flitting in just a moment before appreciation took over. "Shawn Spencer, can't say I was expecting to see you here. Still haunting my hometown or hiding from federal warrants?"

"A little bit of both _if_ this falls under attorney-client privilege." He smirked, half genuine and half to cover his distraction. How could time have gotten away from him so quickly?

Easily, Mr. G was steadily getting better. After that… encounter in his study it'd seemed hopeless until, after day after day of standing by and watching him push himself to take the stairs on his own each morning, Mr. G came striding down the flight to the foyer with an easy pep in his step. Shawn hadn't been sure it was appropriate but he felt accomplished at the sight, like he'd played some kind of part in the older man's success. Mrs. G certainly seemed to think so from the way she'd yanked him into a tight hug. The boys in her life saved the surprise for the following afternoon when she'd asked Shawn to bring the laundry upstairs and her husband had responded by grabbing the basket and marching resolutely upstairs, no hesitation and no pauses to catch his breath.

The tears in her eyes as she pulled Shawn to her side and thanked him so enthusiastically a few tears blurred his own vision. It was such a simple act, on anyone else it wouldn't have meant anything significant but the celebration that ensued, accompanied by Shawn and Mrs. G making a Peach Cobbler delicious enough to disappear by the next day, and was tempting enough for Shawn to grab the phone to call Gus. He'd gotten the phone to ring twice before he chickened out and hung up out of doubt. What was he going to say? "Hey Gus, called from your life to tell you your Dad walked up the stairs on his own today?"

He returned to the kitchen, smiling somberly as the elder couple danced around the kitchen, chattering excitedly and shooting him bright matching grins though Mr. G's was a tad more pronounced to Shawn. He'd leaned a hip against the counter and longed for the days when he could tell Gus about this and have him know how big a deal it was just by the tone in his voice or by the fact that he'd mentioned it at all.

He was jarred back into the present to see Kara's bright ruby-stoned class ring resting heavily on his arm. "You okay? You looked a bit sad." She looked concerned so Shawn figured he must look pretty pathetic waxing nostalgic in the middle of the soup isle.

"Nah, I'm great. Just thinking about the upcoming holidays." He tried to regain their usual standing. "I assume that's why you've returned from your usual position sharpening your tail and assigning rooms in Hell."

It wasn't his best work but Kara was desperate enough to keep things from being awkward. "Someone's gotta do it. You want things to be perfect for your arrival, don't you? I've got the hot tub ready and everything." She gave a brief smile at the grateful look she received in return.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you were trying to seduce me into an early death." Shawn supplied pushing the cart towards the canned vegetables.

He was planning Thanksgiving dinner's setting in his head and not just the food. He had to set out the best China, maybe make a seating chart so there wouldn't be any awkward silences then he wondered what Henry had planned. He hadn't seen his Dad in a while but Thanksgiving had always been a tradition they didn't embrace nor outright ignore. They usually ordered Chinese or Italian food and acted as if they just happened to end up at home on the same night at the same time. After his mother left, it was one of the only staples that stuck.

Kara followed, tossing the canned Chicken Noodle Soup from her right hand to her left. She shifted from heel to heel, eying his movements. "Whatcha buying?"

"Things." He smiled at the twitch to her brow.

"For what?"

"If you must know, a chocolate mousse cake. Me and Mrs. G alternate. Sometimes I make dinner and she makes dessert or she makes dinner and I make dessert. I'm trying something new." She eyed him thoughtfully, the excitement apparent in his features. She didn't see much of him in high school and what she saw she hadn't necessarily liked but she couldn't remember seeing him enthusiastic about anything other than Gus.

"You cook? By choice?"

The beginning stings of pride puffed up his chest and he looked down his nose at her. "Yes and I'm damn good at it. You should come by sometime and see for yourself. I've made foodgoers cry tears of joy with my delectable dishes of dangerous deliciousness." He bragged, pulling down the vegetables Mrs. G had asked for on her list.

Watching her mother shuffle down into another aisle a few feet away from her, Kara shrugged. She'd come home to visit but time with her parents had already gotten a bit stale. Plus, it might be good for her to spend some time with someone she didn't have to make conversation with. "Okay."

Shawn nearly dropped the can of green beans. "What?"

Now a grin split her sharp features, victory on the edge. "I said 'okay'. How's two sound? I can help you make your dessert and then you can _try_ to prove me wrong."

It'd been a while since he'd hung out with anyone remotely his own age. He'd been so desperate for a friend he'd started an impromptu game of catch with the eight-year old next door until some of the looks he'd gotten made him feel creepy. "Challenge accepted."

xXx

By the time Kara showed up, Shawn was mid way through pouring the first layer of chocolate batter in the cake pan. She threw her bag down at the door and strode forward, shoving a lock of flaming red hair behind her ear. "Hey! You started without me. Now how do I know you didn't cheat?" She smacked him lightly on the arm and studied the small paper in front of him.

The smell of lavender slowly filled the room, mixing with the smell of future treats in a non unpleasant way. "Cake waits for no one."

"If you say so." She grabbed a piece of the chocolate bark he'd been using for the cake and climbed up on the edge of the counter. At this height she was eye level where Shawn's eyes were shielded by the hair he'd never find the time to cut. "You like it here?"

Glancing up before returning to stirring the second layer, he shrugged. "Yeah. They're really good to me."

"It's not… weird… being here with all his stuff?" Shawn froze, so she cut straight to the point. He wasn't sure if he liked that or not. "His pictures are everywhere and you sleep in his room right?"

He keeps stirring, doesn't answer about how the first few weeks he refused to change the bed sheets so he could fall asleep wrapped in the combined scent of Gus' body and his. How he did little more than weep and try to figure just what it was he'd done wrong in the short time they were together. How he'd scolded himself for getting so fucked up when they could've started way earlier, could've had more time if he hadn't of been such a screw up. No, he doesn't tell her about the nightmares he'd had where he woke up the night he'd overdosed only to find that Gus had left him there to die.

He keeps stirring and staring steadfast at the instructions until a pale hand snatches them up, trailing up to fiery brown eyes staring him down. "It's awfully rude to ignore me when I'm talking to you, you know?"

Sighing, Shawn keeps stirring. "I'm not ignoring you; I'm choosing not to answer." He shoved a lock of hair out of his eyes with his wrist. "What do you care, anyway?"

Frowning dismissively, she covered with, "I don't? I just find it interesting is all." She bit off a bit more of the chocolate. "If I was you I would've left town a long time ago."

"So I'm an idiot for staying behind? Is that it?" He started offensively, more upset when she didn't react to the shift in tone. Instead she nodded.

"I wouldn't say 'idiot' per say. Masochist maybe." He looked up hint of confusion behind the gaze. "You like torturing yourself. It's a more common thing than you'd think."

Shawn poured out the batter for the second layer and grinned a bit. "What? No snippy comeback telling me I'm wrong and I should back off?" Kara started but Shawn just shook his head.

"I just never had a word for it." He started to pour the rest of the batter for the subsequent layers, watching Kara observing out of the corner of his eye. She wasn't finished grilling him and he hadn't had much experience getting girls to shut up in the past, let alone someone as steadfast as Kara. Once he'd finished with the layers and set the cake to be baked, he rinsed the dishes he'd used, washed his hands and returned to the counter.

"You done? That didn't look difficult at all." She remarked, spark in her eye. A bit of the sureness in her posture disappeared when he let his arms fall to the sides of her thighs on the marble countertop. She fought the blush threatening to bloom in her cheeks but it was too late, Shawn had seen. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?"

"No reason." Knowing smile on his face. He trailed small circles along her sides, chuckling when she stuttered out a question.

"Wh-what are you going to do when Gus comes back for the holidays? H-have you thought about it?" Shawn shook his head, continuing to tease. "Are you going to? Things could get really… uncomfortable." Their faces were coming closer, the smell of chocolate on her tongue overwhelming. They neared to the point it seemed so wrong, so outlandish Shawn thought fate would interfere to keep it from happening. When it didn't, and his mouth slanted over hers in a soft, barely there brush of lips, he could almost remember the feel of plush inexperienced lips pressed against his tasting of sweet Coca Cola to his root beer and he could almost remember the sounds of cheesy music and ridiculous turtles fighting crime. He pushed further, slicking his tongue against hers, moan erupting in the back of his throat.

He could almost pretend.

xXx

"This never happened." Kara insisted, gathering her shirt to her bare chest. This was the part Shawn had never understood- why after grinding their hips into his, moaning out nonsensical things, women would still believe covering themselves up as quickly as possible somehow erased everything. Like they'd suddenly gain some of their previous, prudish and or purely virginal image back. The first time he and Gus touched under the belt, sober, Gus hadn't covered up afterwards, made awkward small-talk; no he pushed off of Shawn, left the room and came back with Oreos and chocolate milk because before they'd settled their comic-book argument with their mouths Shawn had been craving them.

He grimaced at the pang of regret when for the third time _"why can't you be more/sound more/taste more like Gus" _floated across his mind. He'd still come, still enjoyed himself, still touched her the way he'd been taught but there was something missing. A higher level he couldn't reach no matter how dedicated he was, no matter the great attention Kara gave in pleasing him. He hoped this hadn't been her first time.

He sat up with a forlorn groan and swallowed the taste of bile.

Oh God, he hoped this hadn't been her first time, that she'd wasted it on a loser like him. He tried to think back to a short while ago, had she said anything, done anything to suggest that this was new, all new to her? He let his fingers dig into his mussed hair but he came up with nothing; it was all a blur. Nobody deserved having their first time, especially a girl, with someone hung up on someone else. Even through his horror, he had to chuckle a bit at the twist. If Kara was inexperienced, he couldn't really judge seeing as he hadn't slept with a girl in a long, _long_ time. He hadn't slept with anyone in a long time.

Kara flinched at the sound of his breathy laugh, it would take a while for her armor to return but she asked anyway. "Was it terrible?" She couldn't turn around, couldn't stop pulling the sides of her shirt together. The sight only made Shawn feel worse and then he knew.

Shawn stared at the tension in her back. "No, no it wasn't. Honest."

"Why're you laughing?" There was no feeling in her voice, no emotion to be determined.

"I'm such an idiot. That's all." He tried, anything to turn this around on him.

She finally turned around, hair mussed, lips red but her shirt was finally buttoned pristinely and correctly. Her eyes didn't look any different, not that Shawn believed you could tell whether someone had lost their virginity just by looking at them. He'd seen something in Gus' eyes the day after he'd gotten disgustingly drunk and tried seducing him in Diane Novotny's car but that could've just been awkwardness over what they'd done.

Wry, cynical smile. "For sleeping with me?"

"I—that's not what I meant." He stuttered but she was getting up and searching for her shoes. He'd really messed up this time. "Kara—"

She turned around at the door, shoes in hand. Her eyes were pleading for something from him but he didn't know how to give some emotion he wasn't sure he had. Did she want him to apologize; ask to see her again, what? What the hell did she want? What would he want if he'd just lost his virginity to a loser too hung up on his best friend to focus on anything other than the past? He could say he doesn't know but that would be bullshit—he knows exactly what he'd want; he'd want-

"Don't tell Gus." Came out and he knew instantly he'd sealed this as the worst experience of her life.

Her face screwed up and tears started to crawl down her cheeks, eyes red with shame. "Don't worry, this never happened." She slammed the door.

* * *

><p>Twice. Twice Shawn had sent the postcard "I need you here". Only the handwriting alerted Gus that they were written separately. He was pondering why they were sent twice, if now was the time to break their unspoken rules and write back, when he heard a knock on his door. Three months after the Mark incident and he'd finally accepted that it wasn't him coming back to get him back for the black eye.<p>

Tyler opened the door shortly after and didn't make the usual sneer when he saw that Gus was looking at his postcard. He stopped doing that after Gus snapped at him that he only had one left so he'd be damned if Tyler tried to make him feel stupid for holding on to it. That wasn't his intention, however. He'd only wanted Gus to realize what his guilt was holding him back from, but Tyler couldn't tell him that without having to explain what the hell he was talking about and he wasn't ready for that.

"I have a surprise for you." He exclaimed as he dropped down beside Gus on the floor. He would've sat on the bed with Gus but he didn't think it would be a good idea for him to be with Gus on a bed ever again if he was determined to be his "Best Friend".

"Yeah." Still in "Shawn-Mode" as Tyler had entitled it.

"Yeah." He mimicked Gus' monotone. Pulling Gus' hand in his own because that had suddenly become less weird for some reason. "Josh let me borrow his car for the weekend. Isn't that great! Road trip, Gigi! We're going to Maui!"

No reaction other than a mindless shrug from Gus. Okay, Tyler would take that challenge. "You should be jumping up and down Gus… I had to give Josh unlimited blowjobs for life to earn this privilege. He sold me to Taiwanese businessmen for cash and a Subway sandwich. They serenaded me with Backstreet Boys' songs while they spanked my ass with wooden sandals."

There it was, the corner of Gus' mouth twitched as he tried not to laugh. Not quite a victory, fine he'd keep going. "Then they brought me to a nightclub and made me dance nude while they pelted me with Moon Pies and Ho-Ho's. I'll smell like cheap pastries for weeks, _weeks_, Gus! But thank God I'm alright—"

Taking a pillow to the face, Tyler gave up and let out a loud bark of laughter, joining Gus on the bed. They fought and wrestled with Gus' pillow until Gus had Tyler on his back, pillow forgotten, his hands above his head forced to surrender. Tyler had stopped giggling some while ago, hips bucking to get into a winning position and failing miserably. When had Gus gotten so strong, he wondered. He would've kept fighting if he hadn't noticed the moment Gus' eyes widened in confusion. Well, Tyler thought, it was only a matter of time before his body went stupid with the contact and reacted. He was just sad he couldn't give the little guy something real to go crazy for.

"See what can happen when you don't plan?"

Unsure what to say, "I—what do we—"

"Later, Gus." Tyler said, using the younger boy's confusion to let himself up and off the bed. "Come with me downstairs. I whored myself out for this trip and it better damn well happen." He forced down the nerves that kept his hand trembling when he reached behind for Gus' hand.

And when he got it, he was sure nothing would ever change.

When they took the first exit, Gus was sure his dwelling on what happened in his room had made him hallucinate. When they took the second one, Gus was sure. Tyler wasn't taking him to Maui and that much he had figured but now that he knew exactly where they were going, he was surprisingly angry.

"You're taking me home!" Gus yelled accusingly, starting to climb to the front. Tyler had insisted he sit in the back because he wanted to make Gus feel like he was being chauffeured. Now it felt like he was a little kid being forced to go to grandma's house. "Turn around and take me back!"

"No can do, Gus. We've gotta make good time if we wanna get there in time for dinner." Tyler tossed over his shoulder, and Gus could see his shit-eating grin in the rearview mirror. He'd just never wanted to punch it before.

"Take me back, Tyler."

"Or what, you'll jump out?" Tyler teased, challenge behind it.

Gus crossed his arms and started to rant before he realized just how childish he looked. "Maybe I will, huh? What then? How would you explain that to my family?"

The driver seemed thoughtful, "Well, one, that's a pretty drastic thing to do to get out of a visit. However it would entertain me so there's that. Two, I've child-locked your doors so you're in worse shape than prisoners in Alcatraz. You'd have to bust a window in this baby to get out which would only please me more in the entertainment department, oh dear friend of mine."

Halfway through the trip, Gus tried again. "What if I have to pee? You would have to let me out then."

Tyler didn't skip a beat. "Except you don't have to, do you?"

"I can fix that."

"Please don't."

"Have I ever told you how much I dislike you?" Gus muttered, pouting at the scenery that flowed past their windows.

"Nope, but I'd be much obliged to hear it. Tell me do I make your skin crawl with abhorrent rage? Do I keep you awake at night pondering the many pleasant ways to saw off my limbs? Do I make you weep with the urge to claw my face up with your bare hands?" He sang gleefully, ignoring the traumatized look on Gus' face.

"You're seriously disturbed, you know that?"

"And you love me, therefore you are equally disturbed, my good friend. Equally!" Tyler shot back, grin still plastered on his face.

Gus smirked and shook his head. "If not more."


	7. Play Nicer

Ch. 7

They pulled into the Guster's driveway a little late in the afternoon and the hungry teenagers could smell dinner from the porch. Tyler immediately jumped in the swing and pulled Gus down with him before they'd even knocked on the door. Being so close to his family and not greeting them first was something Gus had never done. He found the liberation strange to enjoy. Having the extra time to experience being back before he returned to being the old Gus. He shot a glance at Tyler and wondered if he'd taken it upon himself to call ahead.

The other boy was swinging them back and forth by one foot, his head leaned back and watching the sky. It was nowhere near as dark as Tyler usually liked it but a few stars could be spotted if he knew where to look. With his hair pushed away from his face, eyes up and mouth open as he sang, Tyler looked so exposed and vulnerable. Easily breakable, like he'd called himself when Gus had brought him down from hours on the roof without a coat that day in December. As if feeling the stare, Tyler's eyes seemed to snap in place with Gus' and the swing slowed.

"You kissed me." It seemed too loud on the quiet street and with where they were, Gus felt more than a little lost with his two world's colliding. Still, he knew better than to think Tyler had made it up.

"When?" Tyler seemed almost thankful for the question.

"Drunk." His left eye twitched and Gus knew they were playing the game. Fragment sentences to see how far they would get. At first Gus had done it to make fun of Tyler's knack for getting points across using as little words as possible before it spiraled out of control. It wasn't that strange until Tyler tried to convey "Hippie" by humping a potted plant and they were awkwardly kicked out for a day.

"You?" He cocked an eyebrow and Tyler understood.

"Enjoyed it." The eyes returned to the sky and Gus wanted them back.

"You did?" he asked, instead.

"You were sweet." Tyler whispered but it felt like they were spoken to the sky. It was odd that out here the sky didn't feel like his and Gus'.

"Sweet?" Gus repeated, knowing Tyler probably thought he was a little slow now.

"And wrong." Tyler supplied.

"How?"

"Not Shawn." Tyler pointed to his chest and it was a moment before Gus got it.

"I did, I'm sor—"

"You suck at the game, Gus." Tyler interjected, swinging them again. "There are no apologies in Tyger Sentences." He looked over and smiled to let Gus know he wasn't upset and was surprised to see that Gus was. "What's—"

"Again." Shot out like a bullet and they were about to start again when the door opened. Tyler looked up at the older woman in the doorway and felt the urge to jump up, like they'd been doing something wrong.

"Gus? This is a pleasant surprise." Mrs. Guster pulled Gus into her arms and laughed when he tried to pull back to breathe easier. "Sorry. I forget you don't have that meat on your bones anymore. Have you been eating well at that school of yours? I saw Debra Ray Graham's daughter a few weeks ago and that girl is nothing but skin and bone, it's just not healthy."

Tyler finally got to his feet and stood a few feet away, waiting to be introduced. Gus was grinning from ear to ear, not a trace of unhappiness on his face and Tyler hadn't seen that since… well he'd never seen him that unabashedly happy. He couldn't help the selfish bit of him that ached to make Gus feel that way, so he pasted a big grin on his face instead of stealing Gus back and running for the hills.

Eventually, Mrs. Guster noticed the other young man on her porch. She took a step back and slapped Gus on the arm, quite hard. "Burton William Guster, where are your manners! Introduce us."

Gus winced and glared at Tyler like it was his fault. "Mom, I was getting to it. Ow!" She slapped him again.

"Don't snap at me." She warned before opening her arms up to Tyler. "I don't believe we've met. I'm Winnie Guster, welcome to our home. Gus likes to pretend we're on complete opposites of the universe and doesn't keep me informed on everyone he meets."

Tyler laughed and looked to Gus as if asking for a list of what he was allowed to say. He usually just spit out whatever he wanted but this was Gus' mom and he wanted to give a good impression. "Tyler Austin. You must forgive us for not calling; we got a little caught up in a pillow fight before we got here."

Throwing her arms around him again, "You're Tyler? Oh, I've just heard so much about you. Come inside, I wanna hear all about your life. Gus seems to think the sun shines out of your butt from the way he talks about you on the phone." She yanked him by the arm into the house and Tyler barely got a chance to glance back at Gus for confirmation.

Laughing through his grin, Gus gestured for Tyler to follow her inside while he headed back to the car to get their bags. He wouldn't be long because there was no way in hell he was chancing his mother and Tyler talking for long without him there.

Tyler was talking a mile a minute when Gus made it inside with their bags. The recently mobile Mr. Guster sat on the couch from the excited conversation between his wife and the strange boy his son had brought home. Somewhere in the flurry of words flying back and forth, Mr. Guster gathered that the lively boy was the infamous Tyler Austin Gus hadn't shut up about in his calls home. The identifier gained some credit in Mr. G's eyes as no one had made Gus that animated since Shawn, and that was saying something. Speaking of, "Honey, have you seen Shawn?"

"So then me and Gus had to find something to put Josh out with. That's the reason we don't bring piñatas to Josh's parties anymore because Gus set someone on fire." Tyler finished with a dazzling smile, Mrs. Guster had to admit and the way he told stories, her son had found someone just as excited over him.

Still laughing, Mrs. Guster pet Tyler on the hand and responded to her husband. "Check the kitchen. I taught that boy to make lasagna and now I can never get him out of there." She turned back to Tyler and waved Gus over to the couch. If she was watching to see how close they sat on the couch, then Tyler thought she played it off well. It was something he'd wondered on the drive here; just how close would Gus' parents think they were? Would their judgments affect how they saw him?

"You have a lovely home, Mrs. Guster." Tyler remarked and he hoped she hadn't noticed the way his hand jumped beneath hers when Gus' hand brushed against his hip. He turned to face her more, mentally swearing when Gus scooted closer still.

"Thank you. Gus hasn't told me anything about your family. Where are your folks from, Tyler?" She asked, amused as Tyler finally settled on two inches of space away from her son.

Gus tried to lean in front of his friend and change the topic but Tyler had froze or paused at all. Almost effortlessly, "Well Michelle is from Athens, Georgia and Kenneth hails from Arlington, Texas. They live in Texas now. I wish I talked to them half as much as Gus talks to you."

"You call them by their first names?"

"Well, they introduced themselves that way." He waited for the question before he understood where Gus got his good manners from. "I grew up in foster care. I came to them when I was fifteen and they've been my parents ever since."

Patting his hand once more, Mrs. Guster nodded sweetly in response. "Well, you have quite a story." She started to stand and, surprisingly, Tyler jumped to his feet to help her up. "And a gentleman, as well. I'll let you know now, you can stop with all the pleasantries; you've passed my test."

Following his mother into the kitchen, Gus unconsciously took Tyler's hand from where it was dangling by his side. "Scared?" Tyler teased, squeezing back.

Shaking his head but not letting the nerves show, "No, but you should be."

"I bet he's not as scary as you're making him out to be." Tyler scoffed only to jump when a voice sounded from behind him.

"Shouldn't be so cocky when I'm holding a knife." They spun around, hands dropping and neither of them was sure who'd let go of who first. Gus was about to worry the proper greeting when Shawn dropped the cutlery and moved forward first. He tugged Gus into an embrace before Gus had time to second-guess himself.

Tyler took the opportunity to study the boy Gus had locked himself away for. Messy brown hair, quirkily handsome, sarcastic smile, blue could be brown eyes, Gus' height. He could understand what was appealing there but knowing Gus, looks weren't the only reason they'd been together. He had to be missing something; this boy didn't look at all like he possessed the power he seemed to have over Gus.

He seemed harmless and a little sad.

"I missed you so much, Gus. I ran into Mr. Laday at the post office last Saturday." Shawn began.

"Did he remember you?"

"Not at first but when I opened my mouth he did. He's still holding a grudge for that time I glued all of his erasers and chalk to the chalk tray."

And as Gus shook his head and laughed, Tyler finally got it. It wasn't that Shawn was cute, or that he could make Gus laugh, because if it had been, Tyler had that in the bag. It was this, this easy way they had with each other, the memories they'd never share with anyone else, the people nobody else would get to know in the same way, the inside jokes. If one were to spend long enough sharing that with just one other person they were bound to let that turn into some kind of feeling. Love was just the way Shawn and Gus' had manifested.

Tyler couldn't compete with the home advantage… unless he could change the game.

"Interrupting cough." Stepping closer to the conversation, Tyler held out his hand in a greeting. Shawn took one look at the offered hand and returned to studying Gus.

"Tyler, this is Shawn. Shawn this is Tyler." Gus hoped it could stop there so he could let his mom handle the dance of awkwardness that was about to ensue but, knowing Shawn would kill that dream.

"Shawn, so nice to meet you. I feel like I know your entire life story from what Gus has told me." Tyler began and Gus was thankful for the civility until Shawn spoke.

"Funny, I haven't heard a damn thing about you from Gus." Smirking, Shawn picked up the knife and returned to chopping vegetables. He looked up in time to see Tyler blow him a kiss and leave the room with Gus in tow. If he chopped the carrots in front of him with a little more vigor he blamed it on the new knife.

* * *

><p>Dinner would've been tenser had Mrs. Guster not sat by Shawn in expectation. Tyler still hadn't formally introduced himself to Gus' father so that began the dinner conversation. Anytime Shawn chimed in with some insult or jibe at something Tyler said, he received a kick to the leg or a slap on the shoulder from Mrs. Guster. Gus would've been more thankful if he didn't think Tyler's ego needed to be taken down a peg.<p>

He threw in little references to Shawn as subtly as he could but Gus got them and it was out of a wish for peace that he didn't give Tyler the same treatment Shawn was receiving across the table. It was snide little comments like, "I've had long hair all my life. I thought about cutting it last week but Gus told me he thinks longer hair looks cooler. Maybe I just have the face for it, what do you think, Shawn?"

Shawn stabbed a piece of broccoli on his plate and tried for a sweet tone. "You shouldn't hide your face, Ty. You don't look half as unattractive as you seem to think you do." A slap to the hand made him drop his fork and shoot a scandalized look at Mrs. Guster.

Then, "Gus is an amazing student. Seriously, he's crazy brilliant; I thought science was boring until he brought me outside to do this insane chemistry experiment where we actually made blue flames shoot out of a beaker." Tyler explained and that was harmless enough until he reached across the table to wrap a casual hand behind Gus' neck. That was even normal until Gus realized Tyler had taken his lack of objection as permission to touch him as many ways as possible. A hand on his knee under the table, a hand covering his in the middle of a good story, and even a brief kiss on the cheek after a particularly pointed compliment on Gus' modest good looks.

Even through that, it was the supposedly subtle piece on their newfound closeness that Gus drew the line at. "So, I've been bringing Gus over to mine more and more lately. I'm terrible at having people around. I mean, if I had it my way I'd always be naked. Gus is lucky I even wear pants half the time. I'm that disorganized."

Gus blinked and shook his head, glaring at Tyler on his left. A solemn shrug offset by the victorious smirk on his lips. And of course Shawn couldn't resist cutting in. "It takes that much focus to cover yourself? How'd you get into Stanford, Tyler? Either your parents are totally loaded or you slept with the Dean of Admissions."

Tyler's left eyebrow twitched and he bit out, "Why don't you decide? Which one gives you something to look forward to thinking about at night?"

"Clever, does that kind of line attract a lot of girls or just the deaf ones?"

"Tell me something, Shawn: are you bitter because I've completely taken over your role as Gus' best friend or because I get a lot of sex _and_ I've completely taken over as Gus' best friend?"

"Never happened." Shawn shot out. Green eyes met dark brown eyes from across the table as neither Mrs. Guster or Gus made a move to scold either one.

"With girls or with Gus?"

An uncomfortable cough from where Gus' father sat and both boys stopped, looking down at their food. Now Tyler was sorry but Gus didn't throw his hand off as hard as he could've when he reached underneath the table to steal it. That was something and he couldn't resist sticking his tongue out at Shawn, even when Gus stomped on his foot.

By the end of dinner, Shawn and Gus were fuming while Tyler and Mrs. Guster could've sparkled with how bright they were beaming. Mr. Guster just sat back in his chair and drank his water with an entertained expression as he watched the display.

* * *

><p>The conversation over sleeping arrangements made things between Tyler and Shawn even tenser. Still getting over Tyler's crappy attitude at the table, Gus had tuned out of the beginning until his name came up.<p>

Mrs. Guster explained as the boys followed her to the linen closet. Why Shawn was there at all baffled Gus but he let it slide, again out a request for peace. "Tyler can have the pull out in the study and Gus, I guess you can share. I think it's big enough for two-"

"Actually, I mean since he's a guest, Tyler can have my bed. I'll bunk on the floor in the study. Gus can have the pull-out in there." Shawn offered and although Gus was clueless, Tyler understood his motive in a heartbeat.

"Well Gus is technically a guest too so me _and_ Gus can have your bed, right?" Tyler snipped, sunny smile belying his tone. Gus was still lost in how ridiculous he thought both of them were being and Mrs. Guster was concentrating on matching linen sets. Maybe Gus had gotten his selective attention genetically, Shawn thought. "Since you offered so nicely."

"I offered to _share_ with the guest." Shawn elaborated, glare in place but Tyler countered easily.

"Both of 'em? That beds gonna get pretty crowded Shawnsie. I don't know how I feel about spooning with a complete stranger but I suppose it'd be one hell of a way to get to know each other. Do you snore?"

"It's up to Gus." Shawn remarked, ignoring Tyler's comments. His stare made it clear Gus had better make the right choice. The glare was wasted because Gus' attention was elsewhere leaving Shawn staring at Gus and Tyler humming happily to himself. "There's only room for two people in my bed. And we both know who they are."

"Well, Shawn if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were dying to sleep with me." He grinned cheekily and pulled on his shirt. "I'll let you know right now, I'm just not that kind of girl."

"You sure?"

Mrs. Guster turned around, obviously ignoring their antics, and held out two sets of sheets and a couple of pillows. "Gus? Do you mind sharing with Tyler?" She meant the pull-out, unaware of the discussion.

Gus finally tuned back in and shrugged, the usual response when he didn't know what was happening. Tyler thrust a fist in the air and pulled the sheets to his chest and took Gus' arm. "Come on, roomie. We can stay up late and do our nails and talk about boys." He was still babbling in a high-pitched voice when he dragged Gus up the stairs.

Mrs. Guster chuckled and shook her head at his antics. It hurt a little to see that she'd taken to Tyler so readily when she'd been so hesitant to let Shawn in Gus' room at all after finding out what he was to her son. He felt like demanding to know why Tyler was so much more suitable for Gus than Shawn was. Instead he asked, "What'd you think?"

"Of Tyler?" She deduced. She chose her words carefully. "He's a sweet boy. He doesn't know what he's gotten himself into loving my son. Gus wouldn't see a tree falling towards him until a branch hit him in the head."

Shawn gave a wry smirk at that. "True. He didn't know how I felt until I told him so. Everyone else did." His heart beat a little bit faster, the way it always did when he gave something away about his and Gus' relationship to the Gusters'. It always raced even though the couple had never admonished him for anything.

Nodding, she wrapped an arm around Shawn's shoulders. "I like him, I really do." She kissed Shawn on the forehead and started towards the stairs. Before she took the first step, she turned and added, "Don't sell yourself short, sweetheart."

Sharing a bed with Tyler after their conversation on the porch was strange to say the least. At dinner there were plenty of distractions from Tyler's confession outside but now the information hung in the air. They worked together changing the sheets on the bed as they took turns exchanging expectant stares but neither boy said anything other than "Hold that side and I'll get this one" or "here's the top sheet".

When they'd finished, Tyler kicked it off by jumping in the middle of the bed, spreading his arms out and whispering, "You can ravish me now." Seeing the stricken expression on Gus' face, Tyler gave a shaking laugh. "Just kidding."

Sitting down on the edge, Gus studied the new décor in his room. "Are you, though? Because I'm worried I make you uncomfortable—"

The other boy sat up with an annoyed sigh. "Gus, we're not having this conv—"

"We have to."

Tyler brushed a hand down Gus' back and took some comfort in the way his shivered in response. "Because we should never go to bed angry?"

"Tyler—"

"Because I'll still love you in the morning—"

"Tyler." Gus warned and Tyler took the opportunity.

"Gus, don't make me do this."

"Show me?" Gus suggested and Tyler had to grin. Sometimes Gus surprised him in the weirdest ways.

Tyler laid his cheek to the pillow and waited for Gus to look at him. "It was nothing. Really." Seeing Gus' disbelief, Tyler turned onto his stomach and leaned over Gus. He couldn't describe how satisfying it was to see the excited fear in Gus' eyes. He'd built this moment up in his head for months and he was about to throw it away to make Gus feel better. The fucker better appreciate it, Tyler thought.

Rushing in the last three inches, Tyler pressed their lips together, deciding at the last minute to let his arms come down. Letting their chests meet set the tone higher than it'd been that night in Tyler's room. The kiss was harder and Tyler felt like his skin was scorching from the contact through their clothes. Gus kissed back timidly but more readily when Tyler ran a hand down his side.

Tyler's head was swimming, cloudy at the sheer chance that Gus might enjoy this enough to want to keep this going between them. He felt too big for his clothes; like he was being restrained and all he wanted was to let himself go and take control of the kiss unashamedly. Move his right hand an inch to the side, let his left cover Gus' bony hip and he would be able to do what he really wanted; just take over and completely possess Gus. A dirty, determined slide of his tongue along Gus' top lip, gave Tyler the hint that his time was up.

It took will Tyler wasn't sure he had to pull back. Rolling back onto his back, Tyler clenched his eyes shut in an effort to calm his body's reaction before they had a repeat of earlier. Gus was still catching his breath beside him. "See. No big deal. Nothing to freak out over."

He could feel Gus' eyes on the side of his face but for once he couldn't smile back and reassure him that he was telling the truth because he wasn't and for once he didn't want to lie. Rather than comment on the obvious fib, Gus reached over and took Tyler's hand. It wasn't the big showy kiss and handjob Tyler had imagined their first sober kiss would end with but somehow, it was still okay.

Besides, Tyler reasoned, he had Gus in his bed and Shawn was hugging a couch pillow right now.

* * *

><p><em>Shawn barely flinched as the desk drawer slammed into the closet door. He seemed to slink forward, dangerous glint in his eye and if Gus felt underdressed in just his boxers, well he tried not to show it. Glaring down where Gus was struggling to show no fear, it shot out like a bullet. "You're leaving?"<em>

"_I was—"_

"_You're leaving." A sure accusation, like Shawn already knew the truth and needed nothing else to prove his point. _

"_I couldn't figure out how to tell you." Gus refused to raise his head from his hands. He didn't know what he'd been thinking. It wasn't like him to pretend that if he didn't think about things they'd somehow just disappear from his life. It hadn't worked when his fifteen-year-old self had spent nights pretending he didn't have feelings for his sly-tongued best friend and it hadn't worked now. "I don't want to leave like this."_

_The desperate brown gaze came into view as Shawn kneeled down before him and pulled Gus' hands from his face. "So don't leave. Nothing has to change." The sheer hope in his eyes was stunning, the light dangerously close to spilling over into tears. Gus swallowed hard because years ago he'd promised to never watch Shawn cry again, not if he could help it._

_And as much as he wanted to take everything back, act like nothing happened, he'd seen the looks of unabashed pride on his parents' faces. He'd watched his mother's eyes light up at the prospect of finally getting to see her baby boy grow up and make something of himself all on his own. He hadn't wanted to need that approval but now he craved it. He craved it from everyone._

"_It already did."_

"_Please, don't do this. Please." Pleading grimace, the shine of wet eyes and Gus had to fight to look anywhere else. As if sensing that he'd broken through, Shawn's shaky hands came up to force Gus to look at him. "What did I do? I can fix it, I promise."_

"_It's nothing you did." He stumbled over his words. Not because they weren't true, but because he knew no matter the words, Shawn wouldn't believe them._

"_It had to be. What was it? You can tell me, I won't get mad." He searched Gus' eyes critically before letting go of his hands. Faster than Gus could act, he started to pull at Gus's boxers. "Is it the sex? Am I terrible because I can be better."_

_Swallowing thickly, the younger boy tried to fashion a way out of this. "You'd know better than me if the sex was bad Shawn—"_

"_Was Michael better? I can learn, I promise." He threw out and fought with Gus' hands to get rid of the last barrier. Or I can have this part," He clawed at Gus' bare chest. "And I just won't have the rest if—if that's what you want." His voice broke, caught in the obvious lie._

"_That's not what I want." _

"_Then what is it? What do you want Gus? It's not me!" He shouted, scratching at Gus' hands. The vicious glint to his brown eyes was frightening, enough to stop Gus from fighting. "Do you even know? I mean God…" He ran a harried hand through his scattered locks and bit at his lip. "What is so wrong with me that everyone I care about leaves? First Shane and now you—"_

_Shawn froze, wrists locked hard enough to grind the bones together against Gus' palms. "Don't say that; don't even think that." Gus spat, shaking Shawn as he did. He wished it didn't feel so good to see his own fear reflecting back at him in those dark eyes, but it did. _

"_Don't do this." His lips quivered and he sniffed to cover it up. _

"_I'm not doing this to hurt you. I'm not even doing it just to leave; that was never part of it."_

"_I don't care, it's still shit. I will never forgive you for not fixing this." Scrawny arms given strength with the necessity of the situation pulled him up into Gus' chest from where he kneeled. Eventually they climbed to the head of the bed and lie down, Shawn on top of Gus, chest to chest as it should be. As shaky hands raked through his messy locks of hair he whispered. "I hate you." _

_Heart drumming away in his chest, Gus nodded solemnly and tried to pretend he hadn't heard. He barely registered the warm wetness spreading across his shoulder where Shawn was brushing his stubbled cheek back and forth. Suddenly, it seemed overwhelming; like he was drowning. He pushed at Shawn's weight on his chest, nails digging into his shoulder blades but Shawn wouldn't budge, wouldn't stop bearing down on his lungs. He felt trapped, clawing at the raw skin and getting nothing but matching scars and bruises in return. He gasped for breath, shoving at Shawn's chest, eyes watering with the lack of air but Shawn wouldn't move, spite fueling his glare. He wouldn't be satisfied until Gus gave in or suffocated or both. _

_He wanted so badly to push the weight on his chest off and away so that he could breathe easier. He tried screaming but his throat was closing up and his vision started to swim, the water had risen to his eyes, it was swimming in. _

_The water was everywhere._

Tyler awoke to an elbow plowing him in the face. It was pitch black in his room as he pushed the strange shape off of his face and tried to process where he was. He'd gathered that this wasn't his bed when a blunt object stabbed him in the side. He chased it blindly, feeling moving cloth flying around in desperate movements. Still coming out of a dreamless sleep, he briefly feared a blanket monster. Snapping out of bed and switching on the bedside lamp, Tyler sighed at Gus' foot poking over the edge of the bed.

He climbed back into bed, trying to pull the blanket off of Gus' head. He gripped it and yanked but Gus was holding on with more strength than his body gave him credit for. "Gus, Gus come on buddy. If you wanna play 'Under the Sea' without me can you at least not kick me?" He continued pulling until he realized Gus was making weird noises. "Gus, come on."

The high-pitched keening noises had started to make Tyler feel sick to his stomach, jarring him out of sleep more. He gave up on the sheet and started shaking Gus, half shushing him and half pleading with him. "Gus, _please_." Shaking gave way to slapping and in the end he was cradling Gus' head in his hands and lightly smacking his face.

When the younger boy finally woke up, he was greeted by Tyler pulling him tight to his chest and rubbing patterns into his back. "Wha's goin' on?"

When they separated, relief on his features, Tyler's eyes were bright and still worried. "You tell me."

Shaking his head, Gus pulled his knees up to his chest and pressed his fists into his eyes. As if he could wipe away the image that left him scared. "Nightmare." He could feel the throbbing self-inflicted welts on his forearm.

"Yeah, well no shit." He resumed rubbing circles into Gus' back and when they were accepted, he pressed a little harder. "What about?"

It was a moment before he would say anything. When he finally did explain, the story behind them and their variations, Tyler's response wasn't what he'd expected. "He was manipulating you."

Gus shook his head, still staring up at the peckle-marked ceiling. "I don't think so" Even now hot, fresh tears spread in his eyes before swimming down into the comforter below his head.

"He didn't mean it." He kneeled closer to the smaller boy and resisted the urge to touch the salty trails on Gus' face to his tongue. He wished he didn't like watching Gus cry but there was something novel in seeing him so disorganized, uncontrolled. "Why are you crying?"

"He was right." His breathing went uneven, back arching as he tried to put it into some semblance of a normal rhythm.

Tyler nodded and tried to see it from Shawn's point of view. "You gave him parts of yourself and took them away barely a few months in. You promised him more time and at the last second it was gone. And then you didn't stay to fix things."

Shaking his head slowly and almost blind with the tears welling up, "No, no, I tried to—" He paused when Tyler heaved him into his arms.

"But you couldn't. And you made it so you couldn't possibly go back to being friends." Tyler reasoned and he didn't really know why it was so easy for him to be cruel at a time like this. Holding Gus when his words were tearing him down. But he relished in it. Gus had to see that he couldn't keep letting this guilt rule his life and if Tyler had to hurt him to make him see well… better he do it now before he'd grown too attached.

"I didn't mean to." Gus argued, head rearing back into Tyler's nose. The pain relaxed his grip for a moment but he regained it fast enough. "I _didn't._" Now he sounded like he meant it.

"You're breathing too fast, you have to calm down." Tyler squeezed his eyes shut at the feel of Gus' bony, heaving chest against his side. "Please, for me. Try to calm down."

It was like he didn't even hear the warning. If anything, he breathed harder. "I d-didn't t-try to ruin everything. I w-wasn't even sure I wanted to go."

Tyler rocked him slowly, murmuring nonsensical things to get him to be quieter, breath steadier, stop making his own chest ache. "It's okay. I know that; I'm sure he knows that too."

"My m-mom and m-my dad were so excited. And Joy and Kara wouldn't stop t-talking about how happy I was gonna b-be—"

"Gus please settle down." Tyler tried again. "You're scaring me."

"What if I was wrong?" He asked, breathing slowing a bit.

"Sometimes you have to be." And it seemed like Gus accepted that for a moment. He quieted where he was pressed against Tyler's chest, mouth thick from crying, eyes red and burning. Tyler never wanted to move and deep down wondered if he'd ever get a chance to hold Gus like this when one of them wasn't crying. Then he realized with a wry grimace that in order for that to happen, their pasts would have to erase completely.

He continued rocking them carefully, savoring the feel of being the one put-together for a change. "He hates me."

Whether it was selfish or he truly believed it, Tyler didn't disagree.

* * *

><p>Why Shawn decided to tag along on Tyler's tour of Santa Barbara was overshadowed by the events that transpired. It started out with Shawn wanting more time to check out his competition and became more about gauging where he and Gus were at on the reconciliation scale. Especially when halfway to the park where Shawn and Gus had unofficially adopted baby geese, he noticed a line of scratches on Tyler's arms starting at the wrist and disappearing into his sleeves. His dad had trained him to notice these things and he noted that some were deeper than others and they looked defensive.<p>

"Rough night, Tyler?" He asked, letting Gus take a few steps ahead of them. He was explaining or asking something, Shawn didn't know. He wasn't paying attention to him right now, not like Tyler was pretending to.

Tyler glanced over his shoulder at Shawn, smirk in place before returning to Gus. "No rougher than usual, why? Want the details?"

Shawn laughed it off and walked close enough to tug on Tyler's left sleeve. "About these, yeah. What'd you do? Make a move on Gus and get rejected?"

Unsure, Tyler tried to play if off. "We wrestle all the time." He squinted to watch Gus in the bright sunlight. The younger boy seemed unfazed by Tyler's closeness to Shawn but that didn't mean it was Tyler's place to tell other people about his nightmare. Especially the star of it.

A defensive glint to his glare, Shawn stepped in front of Tyler and stopped him, hand on his chest. "We've wrestled before but never enough to get scratches."

"Maybe you just play nicer. We play to win." He suggested, cocking an eyebrow. He wasn't sure what Shawn was getting at until he spoke again.

"Gus may not like it, but I still care about him," He leaned in closer, breath hot on Tyler's face. "And if you ever hurt him I'll hurt you."

Tyler took a step back, assessing the situation. He had scratches, his nose ached a bit and he was pretty sure he was developing a light bruise on his right hip. If anything, it looked like Gus had beat _him_ up. Of course Shawn wouldn't see it that way, what with his determination to eliminate the competition. "What're you gonna do? Tie my shoelaces together?"

In place of a comeback, Shawn shoved at the taller boy's shoulder and started towards where Gus was walking by the water, still talking. "Just play nicer, okay?"

* * *

><p>When things between Shawn and Tyler finally erupted, both were only surprised it took so long. After spending the day outside on the patio talking while Tyler and Gus' father played a lazy game of catch, Shawn thought things were getting better. He hadn't contemplated punching Tyler in the face or locking Gus in the basement and keeping him there forever recently. A childish part of him still wished Gus would push him into a wall, shove their mouths together and tell him that going to Stanford had been a huge mistake and he loved Shawn more than anything and he promised to never leave again. As much as he wished the opposite, he knew he would've taken Gus back apology or not.<p>

What set the stage for the blow up was a harmless comment thrown Gus' way as Tyler came over to fetch the baseball from the bushes. Mr. G was jogging in small circles, relishing in his energy returning, Gus was smiling back at him and it wasn't that mask-like polite one he used to wear; all felt right in the world so it really should've taken more to upset everything.

Tyler stopped at Gus' chair, leaned down simply and muttered, "We should really get you one of those heating blankets when you move in next term because you spooned me and if that wasn't criminal enough, I felt like I was sleeping on a furnace." Gus started to laugh it off, shoving at Tyler's shoulder when Shawn snapped.

"You can handle dancing for Taiwanese business men, but you can't handle a little spooning?" Gus shot back.

"Not if I'm the little spoon."

"If?"

Shawn interjected, eying Tyler for an answer but speaking to Gus. "Move in? With this guy, are you serious?"

"Shawn, what's the big deal? We're friends." Gus supplied, once again defensive over Tyler and wasn't that just what had pissed Shawn off in the first place?

"Friends, right?" He sneered, gesturing at the lack of space between the two boys in front of him. "That's a load of bullshit. I may still be the stupid kid you left with your parents to water and feed but I'm not blind, Gus."

"You said you weren't jealous!" Gus shot back, feeling a bit ridiculous at mentioning such prime ammo that Tyler could use.

"That was when he was 'just a friend'. You know before you were jumping at any opportunity to share a bed with him and shove in my face just how pleased you are at us being over."

"I'm not—I didn't jump at anything. And I'm not pleased." Tyler felt a bit sick at the way the boy he'd come to know dwarfed completely into this meek, tiny child trying his damndest to fight the lurking ogre. "That's not fair. You're not being fair."

"Neither are you. If you're so eager to move on, Gus, at least have the decency to not parade it in my face and make me watch."

"There isn't anything to wat—" Gus had started when Shawn shook his head and left to go back inside. Looking up to Tyler for confirmation of what had just happened to find that Tyler had followed Shawn inside.

Cringing, Gus sat further back and closed his eyes in defeat. Hearing approaching footsteps in the grass, Gus braced himself for the speech he knew was coming. "I know, I know. I should go in there and make sure they don't kill each other. I'm just gearing up for it, Dad."

The familiar deep chuckle sounded, "I know you were. I'll just sit here with you while you do. Is that okay, or am I interrupting your process?"

Inside, Shawn had stormed his way up to his room only to fume even more at the sight of the messy bed coverings. He knew better than to think they'd done anything other than sleep in this bed but that was enough to keep him angry. He sat down at the edge of the bed and stared at the mirror on top of the dresser. Sure he'd changed, he was stronger, thicker and the rings around his eyes had finally faded but Gus had changed too.

He was still scrawny and thin, hidden strength somewhere in his bony body but he seemed bigger somehow. He laughed louder, he made jokes now, he was less inhibited and when he smiled it was more carefree than ever. And when he looked at Tyler everything was laden with this layer of urgency, like he always had to check his side to make sure Tyler had disappeared, hadn't left him. Gus acted like he needed Tyler and he'd never been that way with Shawn, never had to check to make sure he was there. Cursing, Shawn threw the mess of sheets off of the bed just as the door to the room burst open.

"Cleaning?" Tyler asked, closing the door and leaning against it with a smug expression Shawn would've been perfectly satisfied to punch. "Don't mind me, I'll just be here judging you."

"That's what you've been doing? Let me guess, you think I'm too immature for Gus?" Sitting back down, Shawn laughed humorlessly. "You and me both."

"Actually, no." Tyler thought about it for a moment before settling on, "I've been thinking of all the reasons not to kick your ass, namely Gus never speaking to me."

"What did _I_ do to _him_?"

Crossing his arms and studying his nails, Tyler didn't hesitate to explain. "You guilted him into feeling bad about leaving. I know Gus and I know—"

"You've known him for less than a year, don't try to act like you know him better than I do—"

Determined to talk over Shawn, "I know how easy it is to make him sorry for something he shouldn't apologize for—"

"You think I don't know that?" Shawn screamed, finally shocking Tyler into silence. "I don't know what I wanted, I just needed him to feel _something_. I had to make him—"

"You made him feel like he didn't deserve to be happy." Tyler said, voice quiet and somber the way it always got when he had to swallow down the urge to fight. It scared him how desperately he wanted to bridge their gap and use his fists to get Shawn to feel some amount of the pain he'd watched transpire on Gus' face when he spoke about their history.

And maybe Shawn would dwell on that later, pile it in with all the other things he dwelled on when he let himself feel like a miserable, sad sack but he'd be damned if Tyler was going to have the last word. "I know your game, Tyler. I've played it and you won't get further than I have, trust me. Gus gets distracted by shiny and new people every now and then but you've got nothing on me. We're so alike it's disgusting." He knew enough to know Tyler knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I get that you think I'm encroaching on your territory—"

"No, I know you are. Gus is still mine—I know it and he knows it. You just got here, you're an outsider." Now he whispered, knowing Mrs. Guster had probably heard most of their argument.

"You like to think of Gus as your little puppy that used to follow you around all the time but he is _so_ much more than that." Tyler said, placing a hand over his heart. "Everything he is, he is despite all the shit he had to go through. He's funny, he's bright, he's compassionate and way more trusting than he has any sense to be. You don't get to make him yours because he doesn't know he's allowed to say 'no' to you. No one should have to feel as worthless as you made him feel out there."

Seeing Shawn had actually been rendered speechless, he continued. "He can't _not _care about you. And he's afraid to need me, he's afraid to _love_ me because he knows that you'll hate him for that."

"Gus knows I could never hate him."

"But he thinks you do. You told him that one hundred and six postcards ago." Tyler challenged. He stepped over Shawn's feet and moved to get his and Gus' stuff. He'd enjoyed meeting Gus' parents and seeing the place where Gus had lived and grown up but it had started to feel toxic. "You hurt him to keep him and as long as you own parts of him, he'll never belong to anyone else and that's just fine with you no matter who it hurts, isn't it?"

Shawn didn't speak but Tyler heard the "Yes" hanging in the air. He couldn't blame Shawn for feeling that way because he wasn't one to deny himself what he wanted either. They really were a lot alike and instead of this realization comforting him, it made him sick to his stomach. He couldn't fathom ever hurting Gus an inch as much as Shawn had.

"Do me a favor?" Waiting for Shawn's gaze to meet his own, Tyler continued. "Just break him for good and be done with him. It's starting to look pathetic."


	8. Sometimes I Deserve It

A/N: I feel terrible for taking so long to post another chapter. University has been keeping me busy but I haven't given up on this story. I appreciate all you guy's feedback :)

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><p>The last night of Tyler and Gus' visit to the Gusters' was more civil than Joy expected. Having dropped in for family dinner, she was surprised to see the boy Gus had barely mentioned staring across the table at her. Quick to break the ice, Tyler held out a regal hand with a smirking "Hello, I'm Tyler."<p>

Shrugging a little, Joy shook the proffered hand and cut straight to the point "And you are?"

"I'm Gus' best friend," Shawn coughed loudly with a pointed glare he didn't even try to conceal. "We met at Stanford. It's nice to finally meet you; Gus talks about you all the time." He finished with a smile so gracious even Mr. G had to acknowledge the charm.

At that Joy actually beamed and shoved at Gus' shoulder lightly. "You talk about me? Gussie!" While Shawn smothered immediate feelings of betrayal, Gus was silently hoping Tyler didn't start calling him that horrible nickname. "You must be pretty special for Gus to bring you home with him."

Tyler nodded at that, "Actually I'm the one that dragged Gus home. He was missing his family; I could tell so I borrowed a car from one of my friends and well, here we are."

At that, Shawn finally looked up from his plate. "What? This was your idea?"

"He was homesick so I brought him home. It wasn't to piss you off with my presence." Tyler snapped, regretting it the instant Gus started to shrink into his chair. "Sorry. That was rude."

"You missed me?" His voice seemed to slice through the air, stunning everyone at the table but the impenetrable Mr. Guster. Gus gaped, trying to work his way through the less uncomfortable responses. _Yes, of course I did; I'm not a sociopath. No, not at all; I just wanted some stuff from my room. Yes, I think about you every day. No, I hate your guts now._ Instead, he said nothing and the awkward moment extended on until Joy brought up Matt's idea to take a family portrait.

Winnie jumped at an opportunity to move dinner along. "Oh that's a fabulous idea. And it's very sweet of him to offer to take it himself. We'll have to run out and get you a suit, sweetheart." She gushed, shuffling around the salad on her plate.

Bill just nodded into his food. "36 regular. You can go without me."

Scoffing, Winnie took a bite, chewing quickly so she could correct him. "I was speaking to Shawn." Three forks hit porcelain plates. Shawn kept eating, having decided starving wasn't going to make the conversation any easier. Though his blatant surprise showed in the way he kept missing mouth. And Tyler kept eating because if Shawn could, then he could too.

Joy was living up to her name with the huge grin on her face. Gus was in shock at how easily he'd missed the fact that Shawn was taking over his family. And Mr. Guster was annoyed because not only was he going to be forced into a forced family portrait, but he was going to have to put up with more arguing between his sons.

"Oh don't look so surprised. Shawn may not have been a Guster from birth but he sure as hell became one. He's suffered through Gus' illnesses, Joy's graduation party and Bill's stubbornness. He's put up with some of my worst food experiments and all without complaint."

Mr. Guster started to object to the last comment but a look from Gus stopped him. "No, Dad. She's right. He belongs here." Gus stood up, wiped his mouth with his napkin, though he'd barely touched his food. "May I be excused?"

His mother was prepped to say no but he didn't wait for an answer. He was up the stairs before anyone had time to say anything to him. Shawn stared at Gus' empty chair for a moment before excusing himself. He stopped by Winnie's chair to give her a kiss on the cheek.

"Thank you." His tone said everything; how grateful, how honored and how much regret he felt about the whole situation. It wouldn't have been necessary to take solace in her family if he'd had one of his own.

She didn't spare him a look, "Don't you dare. You're one of us. I should be thanking you." She gestured to the remaining members of the table. "You're one of us now. My condolences."

Shawn remembered that boy that had once stood in the kitchen talking to the nice woman with the never ending brownies. He remembered asking her a million questions about everything under the sun while he waited for the bratty boy with the paint on his nose. "Yeah, I'll accept delicious baked treats for apologies."

* * *

><p>Gus was lying back on his bed when he heard the heavy steps on the staircase. The hesitation was more felt than heard and by the time Shawn had worked up the courage to open the door, Gus had prepared a statement.<p>

"I'm not upset." He threw towards the door and stopped Shawn midstep. "I'm really not."

The younger man took a few slow steps before pushing himself onto the bed beside Gus. He didn't lie back just yet in case he wasn't allowed. Which was ridiculous honestly seeing as this was his room. "Could've fooled me. The way you booked it out of there. If I'd cooked tonight, I would've thought you were going to be sick."

Gus gave a small smirk at that. "Liar, your food's almost as good as my mom's at this point. I don't know how since you used to screw up toast."

Shawn chuckled. "Yeah, I did. You used to eat it too." He distinctly remembered the time he burned it on purpose, left the bread in the toaster for a full 2 minutes longer than was necessary. He did it just to see if Gus would still eat it. He had, he choked down 5 bites and even managed to smile afterwards. Gus ate deliberately burned toast just because Shawn had made it. Shawn would've never done that for him.

It was quiet for a moment as Shawn lay back on the bed with Gus' body heat burning his side. The room was now sweltering but the boys chose to ignore it. "Then what made you freak?"

He wouldn't answer. Not until Shawn had closed his eyes and he didn't feel like his heart was going to beat out of his chest. "I left home to go to Stanford. I didn't want to be kept here anymore."

Ouch. "I know that." Shawn muttered and for what it was worth, it was less bitter than it sounded in his head.

"I didn't want to ever be the kid that goes back. Either because they couldn't hack it or because they missed someone too much." _The kid that drops out because he could never feel worth anything on his own._

And for a moment, Shawn envisioned the next two minutes of his life. Gus would say, _"But I am that kid. I couldn't hack it and I miss you too much."_ And Shawn would roll onto his side to see if Gus really meant it. He'd look him in his dark, loyal eyes and Gus would say "_I'm sorry I left you all alone like your mom and Shane did. I'll never do it again and I'll try to be better."_ Then they'd kiss and hold hands and do all that mushy couple stuff he'd always pretended to think was lame but Gus seemed to be nicer when he suffered them anyway. Mrs. G would make them chocolate milk and they'd drink that. And then they'd kiss some more.

That'd be awesome. But that's not what happens.

"I didn't want that but I wanted it to be an option. I thought the door would always be open if I wanted to, and I don't want to, or I don't want to want to but—"

"Gus, you're rambling. I'm not sure _you_ know what you're saying right now." Shawn joked dryly, earning a twitch at the corner of Gus' mouth. God, how long had he been staring at Gus' mouth?

"The point is: you've taken my life."

Shawn froze, eyes snapping to meet Gus'. They weren't angry, they weren't hurt… they weren't anything at all. The last time Gus had looked at him like that- the last time- well he'd never looked at Shawn like that. "I did what?"

"You're me now. You're staying in my room, sleeping in my bed, hanging out with my parents." He sat up and yanked Shawn by his shirt. "You're even wearing my clothes!"

Shawn was on the verge of being defensive, but he wouldn't let himself get angry. Not yet. "I'm not you."

"Maybe not, but you're trying to be. You're stealing my home from me. My stuff, my parents, my life!" He started to pull the shirt roughly off of Shawn, not caring when his nails caught a seam and a sleeve started to tear. "This is mine! You weren't the Santa Barbara Elementary Spelling Bee-ast! I was!"

The frustration building in Shawn's stomach had started to fester. "Gus, you're overreacting."

"No, that's just it." He came back into focus, having succeeding in ripping half of the shirt, Shawn still wearing most of it. "I'm not overreacting." Shawn didn't know if it was better than Gus was at least showing an emotion now.

Falling back to sit on his haunches, Gus seemed desperate. Like he wished Shawn could just give him this. "I want it back." He gave with a pathetic lift of his shoulders. Shawn wanted that look off his face so badly he started to pull the shirt off when Gus held up a hand to stop him.

"If this is really about the shirt, I can give it back. It's no big deal, promise."

"It's not about the fucking shirt, Shawn." Gus supplied, biting the inside of his cheek.

"Then what is it about?" Panic settled in. "Do you want me to move out?" He was worried and not because the Gusters would agree to it; they wouldn't even if Gus wanted. He was scared because he knew _he_ would do it- if that was what it would take for Gus to come back. He'd put up with Henry's looks of disappointment, walk past Shane's old room every day if it meant he could have Gus back in Santa Barbara.

"No. Of course not." He threw it out like he hadn't almost uprooted Shawn's entire life. "I don't know what I want."

Shawn almost screamed. _Me. You just want me. Say it._ It was dancing on the tip of his tongue, right at the edge. But he stayed quiet, and he felt stupid in his half torn shirt. Wasn't that just the best part? He was sitting in Gus' room ripped in pieces, awaiting further instruction.

"I'm sorry. I'm glad you're going to be in the picture. You're a huge part of my family's life." He grabbed Shawn's head and kissed the top of it. Even that hurt. "I'm gonna go check on Tyler." He climbed off of the bed. "See you later."

He was out the door when it slipped out. "Gus!" Nothing could tear the desolation out of that outburst. "Gus."

Gus almost tripped over his own feet running back in. "What? What's wrong?"

Before he had time to explain, his face was wet and gross and he'd never felt like a bigger sad loser. Why should Gus want this, he wouldn't. "I don't to be important to your family. I want to be important to _you_."

Gus was speechless. Not only had the sudden bout of tears shocked him, the statement struck him quiet.

"I'm not attached to this room, or this house, or these fucking clothes." He ripped the shirt the rest of the way off, not even taking the time to care that Gus' eyes lingered for a moment before the nervous fear clouded over his eyes. "I'm not attached to Santa Barbara."

He got up and stalked Gus into the corner by the doorway and he appreciated the fear. He craved it the more compliant and confined Gus became. "But I stay because all these things remind me of you and who we were." He leaned in to Gus' ear. "Before you screwed it up. Screwed me up."

Gus made to push Shawn off of him, and he kept trying upon realizing Shawn had no intention of letting him get his way. "I get it, okay. I ruin things and I ruined our friendship. Now let me go." The fact that his voice wavered let Shawn know he was getting through. His friend was still in there.

"You still think this whole thing is about me not being _able_ to move on and that's not true at all. I don't want to move on. I don't want to make some other life for myself, the way you're trying to with Captain Charm down there. Ask me why, Gus." The grin wasn't much of a grin at all. "Go ahead. Ask me?"

"Why, Shawn?" He grit out. He didn't know why he bothered to play along. He already felt that latent guilt bubbling up from the pit of his stomach. The guilt that made it hard to sleep at night and left him waking up in a pool of drool on his dorm room floor, hand shoved underneath his bed.

"Because I know nothing I do, no one I sleep with is going to compete with what we had." He moved in to say something else when he was shoved back and suddenly Gus could breathe again.

Shawn moved forward again into a face full of pissed off Tyler. "Back off of him. I guarantee you won't like whispering in my ear nearly as much." He spun around. "Why do you let him treat you like this?"

Gus looked scandalized. "This is my fault?"

Tyler seemed almost disappointed. "No, it's not. But I don't get why you let him walk all over you. He's the idiot that just can't let go."

"And you're the dumb ass that doesn't have anything to let go of." Shawn shot back. "Did you see the look on his face?

"You okay?" Tyler asked, ignoring Shawn.

"I think he wanted to kill me." Shawn continued, getting closer. "How crazy are you, Tyler? Are you loony bin crazy or medication crazy—" He couldn't finish before he got mouth full of wall plaster. Before he'd fully acknowledged the pain in his nose, he was let go.

He spun around, looking to Gus for help but he looked just as helpless. There wasn't a single expression on Tyler's face.

"This has gotten out of control. This is my room for the time being so I want you out." He stated pointedly at Shawn who stared at Tyler. Tyler gave a cheeky wave as Shawn stood on the landing.

Gus stared into Tyler's eyes, voice still trembling but his message was clear. "You don't touch him, Tyler." The excuse on the tip of Tyler's tongue was cut off a quickly as it came. "And you never do that again."

"He treats you like shit." He crossed his arms, still trying to get Gus on his side.

"Yeah well, sometimes I deserve it." He pushed at Tyler gently enough that he didn't realize where he was headed until the door closed in his face. It wasn't locked and Tyler or even Shawn could've pushed their way in if they wanted to.

But they didn't and it stayed closed until morning.

* * *

><p>Gus was still saying his goodbyes while Tyler fought hard to avoid slamming the trunk shut. He was still mad about their conversation last night. He'd had to wait until an ungodly hour before it felt safe to sneak into Gus' room where he laid out a blanket and slept on the carpet. He'd woken up with one of Shawn's or Gus' socks smothering his face.<p>

He'd been polite in his own farewell, accepting the force of Mr. Guster's handshake without a word. Shawn hadn't appeared all morning and despite the cool façade on his face, Tyler knew Gus was bothered by it. Any longer and he was willing to track Shawn down on his own and make him say goodbye to Gus. He was debating whether to hunt the smaller man down when the front door finally opened.

The sheer horror on Tyler's face was nothing compared to the disappointment in Mr. G's at the moment. Shawn tossed a duffle bag Gus' way, startling him enough that he caught it. "What's this?"

Shawn gave a shrug as he marched towards them. "I'm coming with you."

Mrs. Guster tried to calm the situation before it erupted. "Are you sure that's such a good idea?"

"Hell no." At the pointed look he gave an apologetic smile. "But it's the only idea I've got." He looked to Gus, daring him to say that he couldn't but Gus just shook his head. He shuffled tiredly from the front of the car to the back and popped the trunk.

He pretended Tyler didn't punch the dashboard as he sank down into the passenger seat. He was asleep a mile after they pulled out of the driveway.


	9. Don't Ever Think You've Won

A/N: I'm working on being more consistent, I promise!

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><p>"You know this has got to be the most insolent, childish, ridiculous stunt I've ever seen you pull. And that's saying something considering the stories I've heard." Tyler's green eyes observed Shawn in the backseat. Suddenly he felt like a child again getting scolded by Henry for getting crumbs in the car. "What exactly do you expect to gain from this? His love and affection?"<p>

"Be a bit hard to gain something I already have, wouldn't it?" He matched the stare until Tyler had to concentrate on the road again. "What do you care? You worried he won't need a replacement anymore?"

"He needed an improvement." He boasted, sparing a quick glance at Gus sleeping in the passenger seat. His ability to sleep in such tense company was amazing to both Tyler and Shawn. Not that they'd bond over that.

"How about we don't talk?" And the conversation ended there.

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><p>Returning Josh's car would've been quick and painless if Josh hadn't been doing what he always did on the weekends. The music blaring from his apartment shook the dashboard hard enough to wake Gus. He jolted up, taking note of his surroundings. Eventually, he settled enough to be the first one out of the car.<p>

Tyler followed suit but rather than grab his things out of the trunk, he started towards the building. "Where are you going?" Gus asked, voice still groggy with sleep.

"Where do you think? I need a drink if I'm going to deal with him." He jerked this thumb in Shawn's direction before shuffling towards the noise. Shawn didn't hesitate to follow.

"Where are _you_ going?"

Shawn gave a quick shrug. "Free beer." Gus didn't know why he followed them. Shawn and Tyler and alcohol; there wasn't a recipe for a greater disaster.

* * *

><p>"Look at 'im." Tyler gestured towards where Gus stood in the kitchen talking to Great, no doubt complaining about his predicament. "What do you see when you look at him?"<p>

Scoffing, Shawn took a swig of his beer. "My best friend."

"Then why do you treat him like shit?" Tyler stated, watching as Greta managed to get Gus to spare a laugh. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the man laugh. Was it before they left? That first night back or maybe the morning after?

When Shawn really thought about it, he couldn't see anything wrong with the way he'd acted. Sure he'd yelled at Gus, been openly hostile towards Tyler and at several times he'd really wanted to see Gus cry. But he wasn't the one that had walked out on their relationship, he wasn't the one that blatantly lied for months and he certainly wasn't the one parading a new "friend" in the face of his ex-boyfriend. So no, when he really looked back, he'd done nothing wrong.

"You know how I feel." Shawn said, taking a drink from his beer. Sparing a sideways grin, Tyler nodded.

"I do. Probably better than he does." Josh sunk down on the couch next to the pair of them. He watched as the two men drank in silence, studying Gus in the kitchen.

"What is it with you guys and him, anyway?" He shook his head trying to figure it out. "He's nice and everything, he's friendly and cool to hang out with but I sure don't wanna stick my dick in him."

Tyler choked and shot a glare at him the same time Shawn merely shrugged. "I've known him for seven years. Been in love with him for six. I can't look at him and not see that."

"He's just so… plain." Josh said, ignoring the elbow jab from Tyler.

Shawn countered that too. "That's the point. Everyone sees that at first and then he does something ridiculous like sticking with you through an overdose or hiding in a pantry with you while your parents pretend they're not fighting. Or you tell a shitty joke when you're feeling like the whole world's fucking up and he smiles and you know everything's going to be okay. That's what I see when I look at him."

Green eyes widened slightly as Tyler tried to add something, anything at all but Shawn had gotten everything so terrifyingly accurate. That was how Tyler felt all the time now when he thought back to that fidgety kid chasing notes on the roof of his dorm.

"I guess I just don't see him that way." Josh supplied.

"Not now. But you will." He insisted, sparing Tyler a glance. "You don't know yet how bad this feeling gets."

"What feeling?"

"The wanting." He stated firmly. He leaned back and watched Greta playfully leading Gus into a dance, her hands on his hips. He'd be jealous if he thought Gus swung that way. Strike that, he was jealous anyway because Gus wouldn't touch him, hadn't touched him in so long. "It's one thing to want him and not be able to have him. It's another thing when you realize he won't see you."

"See me?"

"He won't see you that way. He'll refuse to, at first. And when you force it…" he paused, thinking back to Michael Clary. "Just don't ever think you've won."

"I have no idea what you're trying to say, Shawn." Tyler stated, though somewhere in the back of his mind something clicked. Shawn was being kind.

Shawn smiled and got to his feet. Stretching out, he could feel Gus' eyes on him a few feet away. "You know exactly what I mean."

* * *

><p>"You're lucky Tyler chased my roommate away." Gus stated, dropping his luggage on his pristinely made bed.<p>

Shawn sank down on the bare mattress across from him. "And why is that? Didn't want to creep him out when he woke up to the sounds of us making sweet, sweet love?" He asked, chuckling at Gus' swift cringe.

"No." He shuffled over to the closet and pulled out a comforter. "You have a place to sleep for now. How long were you planning on staying anyway? It's not exactly normal for you to be here, you know?" He shoved lightly at Shawn so that he could make the bed. He wasn't sure why he was being so blasé about Shawn barging into his life here. He should've fought harder before they'd left Santa Barbara, he should've convinced his mom to talk Shawn out of it.

But he hadn't. Why?

Shawn watched Gus' meticulous hands, memorizing them for the hundredth time. He was perfectly capable of making his own bed. More capable now than he'd been before he'd stayed with the Gusters. He sucked in a quick breath upon realizing he would surely come to miss the couple while he was here.

"I don't know how long I'm staying." When Gus had finished, he returned to his own bed, watching as Shawn draped across the one he'd made. "We all know why I'm here."

Gus sighed heavily and lay back. "To get your best friend back."

"To get my boyfriend back." He corrected, the certainty in his tone coming like a stab to Gus' heart. It wasn't like he hadn't known that, he had, he really had. He'd avoided seeing it that way. It made staying this close to Shawn again easier to handle.

When his voice came back, "Goodnight, Shawn." He rolled over to face the wall. He heard the creak of bedsprings in the dark and for a moment he remembered that night he'd tried to ignore Shawn writhing and rolling on his bed. A flash of heat traveled in seconds and he felt more dread about this situation than he had all day.

"Hey, Gus?"

"Yeah?"

"How do you think this will end?" His voice sounded wet and too loud for the room.

"I really don't know."

He rolled over to face Shawn. He was lying on his back and staring up at the ceiling. Gus could remember the very first time Shawn and he had a sleep over. They'd invited Dennis, a kid they'd hunted aliens with. It started out with them trudging through the field behind Old Man Fuller's yard and in the end they'd settled for eating ice cream and watching Close Encounters. Dennis fell asleep midway through and Shawn and Gus spent the rest of the night talking about what they would do if they actually got abducted by aliens. Gus would try to take as many notes on their customs to further science and Shawn just wanted to explore a new planet with Gus.

That night, much like tonight, Gus fell asleep watching Shawn breathe.

* * *

><p>Greta sat down to the table with a plastic package of utensils and a salad. "So, how's the triangle coming along?" she asked with a knowing smirk.<p>

Glaring at her long enough to miss his mouth and poke himself in the cheek with his fork. "How do you think its going?"

"Oh, you're asking little old me? I think Shawn's being overly boyfriendly and Tyler's trying and failing to give you space and act like a friend." She took a bite of her salad and chewed thoughtfully. "And I think it's annoying the hell out of you."

"All true. With the added bonus that my mother is calling me nearly every day to pester me about dragging them along." He shook his head. "I've done nothing wrong. When you look at it on paper I'm completely innocent. I had a… relationship in high school; I broke it off to go to college. I made a new friend; my old friend got jealous of my new friend and decided to crash my new college life. What did I do to warrant such a fucked up situation?"

"You really wanna know?"

"Yes. Tell me please."

"Nothing." She stated simply, sipping her tea.

"What?"

"You didn't do anything, Gus."

"I know that, but how did I get here?"

"You didn't do anything." She held up a hand to stop his interruption. "You didn't tell Shawn to let you go and if you did you weren't forceful enough to get him to take you seriously. You didn't tell Tyler he didn't have a shot." She shook her head when Gus opened his mouth again. "He doesn't really, and you know it. You're just avoiding hurting his feelings and it's helping no one. You didn't tell him you just want to be friends. On paper, you look innocent but that's only because you didn't take the variables into account.

"Your high school boyfriend was the jealous best friend. You left him behind with your parents to spend a year surrounded by your things and your family. Your new friend thinks he's fighting off your old boyfriend for your own good but I'm pretty sure he's in love with you and when you look at _that_ on paper, he's not really your friend at all. When you don't speak up for yourself Gus, life shits all over you and _that_ is how you ended up in this fucked teenage novel."

He blinked at her a few times before nodding his head in agreement. "You're right."

"I know." She beamed. "So what are you gonna do?"

He shrugged, poking at his food, his appetite having gone a while ago. "I don't know."

"What do you want, Gus?" Greta asked solidly, waiting to get his eye contact. "I feel like nobody's asked you. And don't give me a sensible answer. I want your honest one. What do you want right at this moment, if anything was possible?"

"What I want is to make everybody happy." He stated simply, ignoring her look of disapproval.

"That's not possible, Gus. Not really. You're gonna have to settle with moderately content."

"I want my parents to just be happy I'm doing well in school and to have them stop asking me why I'm being so mean to Shawn. I want Tyler to stop looking at me like his new goal in life is to beat Shawn at something. And I want Shawn to stop…" He cut off abruptly and for a moment Greta thought Shawn had entered the cafeteria. She looked around, seeing no one she recognized, her gaze returned to Gus, lost in thought.

"What? You want Shawn to stop what?"

Breaking out into a grimace, Gus shrugged. "He loves me."

"We've established this…" Boys were weird, she thought.

"That's all he does is love me. He doesn't want anything for himself except me. It's terrifying." Gus stated, voice heavy enough Greta felt it.

"Because you think you're not worth it."

Nodding, "I can't help but wonder, if he gets me back, what if it's not enough? What is he's still not happy? What if he is and something else goes wrong? He can't keep thinking I'm all he needs to be happy. It's not healthy."

"Love isn't meant to be healthy, Gus."

"Where'd you get that from?"

Rolling her eyes, although she realized how cheesy she'd sounded. "I mean that we don't always love people that are good for us. We fall hard and it hurts more and more every time we do. You wanting him to stop just because it's too much is just stupid."

"You're not listening-"

"You're not hearing me. I don't know what you think will happen to you, Gus. I don't know, but I don't think anything in the world could be worse than hating yourself for years because you let the person you love slip away from you for a shitty reason like irrational fear."

"It's not irrational."

"Why did you leave Shawn?" She thought for a moment and before Gus could answer, she smacked herself in the head. "You didn't, did you?"

"What?"

"You didn't, Gus. You honestly didn't. You left Santa Barbara to come to school here."

"Yes, I _left_." He was terribly confused now.

"It was never a choice to leave him—"

"Greta, I left—"

"-too. You never decided to leave him _too_!" She exclaimed, starling the whole food court. Nodding awkwardly at them to assure them everything was okay, she looked back at Gus who was more confused than ever. "Gus, if Shawn could've come with you, would you have been happy?"

"What? No, I'm hating it now."

"Yeah, because he's acting like a child right now. If you'd never left, and he'd never gotten angry with you, what would you have wanted then?"

Gus tried, he really did but he couldn't get past the look on Shawn's face when he'd told him he was leaving. The hate and the fear in his brown, almost black eyes. The tight grip on his forearms, the thickness of the air in the bedroom making him burn with his own fear. He blinked back, letting his current surroundings comfort him that he wasn't actually back in that moment.

"I don't know. Everything would've been different. I might not have come here; I might never have met Tyler." The thought made him sad. He wouldn't have wanted that, he was sure. But then again, if he'd never met Tyler, he wouldn't have been a person for Gus to miss. "Or you."

Greta pets him on the shoulder and continued eating as if she hadn't just given Gus a near panic attack. "It's just a thought. There is a difference between choosing to leave someone and having the choice made for you. And being with someone doesn't have to mean _physically_ being with someone." She squeezed hard at his shoulder.

"He won't see it that way. Even I don't see it that way."

She nodded and gave a small shrug of her shoulder. "Maybe not. Probably not. He's still so angry with you."

Gus gave a pointed frown. "Well I'm sorry sweetheart but that's the truth." She stated matter of factly.

* * *

><p>The Gusters called Shawn on his second day in Palo Alto. He'd practically run to the phone when the call came.<p>

"Hey guys! I miss you so much! How are you, how's the house? Have you been eating right, Mr. G?" He blurted out in a rush of breath. He was feeling almost unbearably homesick. He woke up three times in one night listening to make sure Mr. G wasn't sneaking to the kitchen for desserts. It took him a few minutes every time to register the sounds he was hearing were Gus' breathing in the bed a few feet away and he was not in fact back at home.

"Whoa, whoa, slow down." Mrs. Guster's voice had never sounded so musical. He could almost imagine them sitting in the living room listening to him on speakerphone. Mr. G would be pulling at his bottom buttons because after he started eating better, he'd started to gain weight and some of his shirts were a little tight. Mrs. G would be in her red waist apron, checking the watch repeatedly to make sure she wouldn't leave the roast in the oven too long. Still, she probably would because once Winnie Guster got on the phone, she didn't get off until she'd said her piece.

"Let's start with the simple stuff. How are you, son?" Mr. G asked briskly, and Shawn sighed. He'd missed him more than he thought he would. He knew he'd probably blocked it out when he figured just how much Mr. G would disapprove of his decision to come along to Stanford.

"I'm... good." He said. He didn't have a real answer. He wasn't crying himself to sleep every night and he certainly wasn't enjoying his time with Gus because was hardly around. If he wasn't in class, he was doing work for class or talking to other people Shawn had never heard of about class. Even when he was with Gus, he wasn't really _with_ Gus. "I'm hanging in there."

"I can't say I like this arrangement but you're grown up now, Shawn. You're allowed to make your own decisions." He could hear the "even if we don't like them" in Mrs. G's voice. "Please call us if this gets to you too much, alright sweetie? Call us everyday-"

"Winnie-" he warned.

"_Every_day, Shawn. Do you hear me? If I don't hear from you I'm coming down there. I don't care if you're having fun or if you've made friends. You're in a new place with people I don't know and you better take care of yourself. And Gus better take care of you. You look after each other, you hear me—"

"Winnie, I think I smell the roast. You might want to go check on it." Mr. G cut in, and Shawn could hear the sounds of her shuffling off into the kitchen. He was relieved and bracing himself for the tounge-lashing he feared.

"Let it rip, Mr. G. I know what you're gonna say." Shawn supplied, sitting down on a nearby armchair.

"What are you doing, son? This was not a well thought out plan and you know it." Straight to the point, like ripping off a bandage.

"I know, I know, I know. But I couldn't think of anything else to do. I was losing him." He sighed. "I _am_ losing him."

"You know how I feel about you two—"

"You're our parents." He paused to let that sink in, hearing the older man sigh on the other end of the line. "You'll love us no matter what. However this turns out, right?"

Another heavy sigh and it was a solid minute before Mr. G's voice was booming over the line again. "You know we will. You know I will."

A tear escaped the corner of Shawn's eye and he wiped it away before he could dwell on it. His heart was pounding into his throat and he wasn't entirely sure why. "I had to try." He croaked, voice rough and scratchy.

"Shawn, this seems like too much for you to handle. Just throwing yourself in a new environment, with no one to rely on but, Gus—"

"He didn't have anyone either—"

"But you do so you'll find yourself relying on him for everything simply because he's all that you have." Mr. Guster explained. "It's not healthy."

"Yeah, but I have Tyler too." Shawn quipped, earning a slight chuckle.

"Just… promise me you'll call." He settled.

"Everyday?"

"Might as well. Winnie will blow a gasket if you don't. I had to use every trick in the book to stop her calling you the first night you got there." He was quiet for a moment. "When are you coming home?"

"I don't know, but I'm not giving up. I know that. You taught me that. I'll never stop trying."

"You wouldn't be you if you didn't." And Shawn could almost swear he heard pride in the older man's voice.

* * *

><p>Living with Gus was nothing like it used to be and Shawn was just figuring that out. Sure some things were similar now to what they had been before. He was accustomed to lying in bed watching Gus get ready for class. Only now, Gus turned his back as he did self-consciously. Gus still kept his side of the room tidy, no shoes on the floor for anyone to trip over. He still kept his closet in order and color-organized. Only now, when Shawn wanted to borrow a pair of sneakers or a shirt, Gus had to be out for him to get his way. Gus didn't want him wearing his stuff anymore because whenever Shawn came within a few feet of the closet, Gus freaked out.<p>

Shawn was about to break that rule because in his rush to pack a bag, he'd packed six pairs of pants, two shirts and three socks. And none of them matched. He scolded himself as he opened the closet and shuffled through the shirt selection. He saw the lavender one he'd loved on Gus, a few checkered ones he recognized. He grew more and more dissatisfied at the choices when he reached the far right corner of the closet. Frowning, he pulled a hanger off of the rack. "Gus." He sighed. He pulled out an age-old Tears for Fears t-shirt. Gus had liked them and that was it, Shawn had loved them. He bought cassettes and t-shirts and he'd even pierced an ear for a month. He wore this shirt to pieces when it'd gone missing years ago.

He fingered the material, the softness of the cotton, the light spots where it'd faded. He pushed down the sentimental sap that made tears well up in the corner of his eyes. Sure he was plenty pathetic, but he wasn't that pathetic.

The sound of keys jingling met his ears and he shoved the shirt back into the closet, shutting the door as quiet as possible. Gus entered the room, weighed down with a bundle of textbooks. He eyed Shawn as soon as he looked up, making Shawn think for a moment that he'd been caught. He had a lie fresh on his tongue when Gus let him of the hook.

"You aren't going to help me?" He asked. "You usually do."

"Right!" He hurried forward and took the books form Gus. "I was just thinking about dinner. Is that Chinese place behind the dorm any good?"

Gus shook his head. "I don't know. I've never been. You wanna go?" He asked, heat pooling in the center of his stomach.

"I do. I want egg drop soup." He supplied, pulling on a shirt he'd worn a few days ago. It wasn't exactly fresh but he wouldn't risk hinting at the closet right now. The flush in his cheeks had barely begun to cool.

"Okay. Well let's go." Gus said, standing before he could talk himself out of it.

"You'll go with me?" He asked, the smile splitting his face intimidating Gus more than the suggestion. They'd been eating separately for the most part. Gus was gone during breakfast and lunch most days and he had Greta go with him if he had no excuse but to go to dinner with Shawn. "Just us?"

"Yeah." He answered simply, willing himself to calm down. "Is that okay?"

"It's perfect!" He leapt forward and pulled Gus into his arms. If his day were going any better, he'd wet himself with happiness. The only way life could get better would be if, on the way to restaurant, Tyler got hit by a bus. He placed a chaste kiss on Gus' neck and moved away before he could get punished for it.

"Let's go. I love Chinese food!"

* * *

><p>"I haven't seen Macky McGee around lately. Have you guys been meeting in secret? Swapping love messages by carrier pigeon?" Shawn asked, stabbing a piece of chicken with a chopstick. Mrs. G had taught him once but he promptly forgot the technique, saying he'd never need it again.<p>

Gus shrugged, moving his food around the plate absently. He hadn't seen Tyler in three days and not for lack of trying. He'd called him a few times, been to his apartment and every time, Tyler was either gone or avoiding him. Served him right for not trying harder to make him and Shawn get along better. At least be civil. The closest he'd come to contact was accidentally bumping into Josh in the Student Union yesterday. He said "hello" but Josh just shrugged him off with a frown.

"I haven't seen him around lately. He must be swamped with work." He muttered, missing the spark of cheer in Shawn's eyes.

Eating with more vigor, "Yeah maybe. At least now we can fix this thing between us." He gestured between the two of them, grin a sunny beacon.

"Shawn, seriously. This is getting old. Can't we just let it go?" He tried, poking at his food.

"Gus, we've been together for like six years."

"No we haven't! We were together for months, Shawn. That's all it was and we fucked it up spectacularly and you're choosing to ignore that." He interjected, not even caring that nearby couples were listening to them. So far, the people he'd met were pretty liberal but he doubted the elderly couple by the window would appreciate the profanity.

"I'm not ignoring it!" He countered, standing up from the table.

"Yes you are! You're acting like everything was perfect and we didn't ever argue." Gus continued to sit at the table, as if he was yelling at his soup.

"Oh, you're just trying to downplay it so what you did doesn't look as bad. So you can feel like it was okay that you left." He spat, throwing down his napkin. He'd been here for four days and it was about time they hashed this out. "Tell me the truth, if you're so sure what you did was okay, why won't you look me in the eye?"

Head jerking up, Gus finally met Shawn's eyes. The rage and hurt he saw was nothing new and yet it still hurt like the first time he skinned his knee. He felt raw all over, like his skin was too sensitive. He stood up, took a step closer to Shawn and for a moment Shawn thought he was going to hit him. Gus seemed to think so too, scaring himself. He reached into a pocket, yanked out a bill and dropped it on the table before walking out.

Minutes after Gus had dropped into his desk chair, the dorm room door slammed open. Shawn came storming in, face flushed angry and prepared to go Round 2. He opened his mouth and started up when Gus shook his head somberly.

"I didn't leave because I wanted to get away from you. And I didn't do it to hurt you." He explained, squeezing all the blood to the tip of his finger to take the edge off.

"You keep saying that."

"Let me finish." He looked up, staring Shawn down. "I've wanted to come to school here since I could remember. I thought about it for years, I made plans; I made a schedule that I updated religiously. I took notes on all the things I've ever wanted to do, everything I ever wanted for my life. All of this before we even got that project in Mr. Leday's class."

Shawn sunk down on his bed, hearing a letdown in this spiel. And hadn't he known this all along. Gus was exactly the kind of person to do that.

"But then you came along and ruined everything… or everything got screwed up somehow. It wasn't your fault. You were so unplanned, so outside of my realm of control. I'd never met someone like you that actually wanted to be my friend. So excuse me for thinking there was no way you'd wanna stay with me for good. I'm sorry I doubted that you'd actually like me long enough for my plans to matter. The truth is, if you hadn't of found out about Stanford that night, I don't know if I would've gone. I honestly don't know."

Shawn shook his head roughly, sneer twisting his mouth into shapes Gus hadn't seen since that night. "But the Gusters—"

"Yes, they knew and they would've done everything in their power to make me go. They would've guilted me for ages. " Shawn shrugged but Mr. G had told him as much. "But they would've had to give up some time. They would've known exactly why I didn't go and worked their way around to accepting it."

Shawn's eyes never moved off of Gus' as his heart thudded away in his chest. His mind was reeling and he'd thought about what things would've been like had Gus decided to stay. He hadn't wondered what would've happened had he not opened the drawer; had he not seen what Gus was hiding. If he hadn't yelled at Gus, if he hadn't gone out of his way to give Gus things he'd never even asked for.

"But would you have wanted that?" Gus asked.

"Of course I would."

"You would've wanted me travelling the country with you? Having never gone to any college at all and wondering what I could've been with a degree? Waking up at thirty, working a crappy job having made the mistake girls make all the time for their high school sweethearts. Only instead of a kid I didn't plan for, I'd get a job I hate that pays less than half of what I could've had someday. Would we even have enough money for a house? Would we live with my parents? Would we really be happy? Would you always stay faithful?" He rested his chin in his hand. "Sure I'd love you, but I'd also resent you. I'd always wonder what I could've had."

"You'd resent me for loving you enough to beg you to stay? I'd get hated for that?"

"You think loving me and keeping me are the same thing. They're not." He said, picking at a hair on his pant leg.

"I'm not the first to want them to be. You aren't the first to break my heart, Gus. And you're certainly not the first to leave." Kneeling beside Gus' desk, he laid his head on Gus' lap. This was the part he'd always hated. How no matter how disappointed or angry he got with Gus, he still felt better just being near him. It was why their arguments had always been the most painful.

Stroking his hair, feeling the soft locks run through his fingers, Gus finally got to the point. He made to stop touching Shawn's hair but he got a pointed nudge to the knee for it. "Will you go home? For me? _Please_."

Shaking his head, feeling the hot tears fall from his eye and soak into Gus' pants. "You've sucked it up this long, why quit now?"

"You being here will make it harder for us to be together."

"What?" He lifted his head, his hair smushed against the left side of his face.

"I'll give this another shot, but only if you go home."

Shawn was stuck between feeling like he'd won and lost all in the same round. "I don't follow."

"If you can prove that I can have both: school and you, then I think this can work. We can at least give it a shot."

"Just like that?" Shawn sat up and made Gus face him. Looking for any signs of a trick and seeing none, he pulled him in close and kissed him hard on the mouth. Feeling Gus kiss back only made things more surreal. "You'd really do this?"

"I think I can."

Smiling and feeling too light for his body, Shawn ran a hand through his hair. He got half of what he wanted. He got Gus to be his boyfriend again. Now he just had to convince him to come home or he was going to have to find a way to stay here. He could play it up and act like a long distance thing was doable if it meant Gus would consider taking him back but he knew his limits. He knew he wouldn't last long that far from Gus. He had to find a way around this rule.

"Well, okay. You get a condition then I get one too."

Laughing, Gus helped him put his hair back in some semblance of order. The fact that he did, having touched Shawn more in the last minute than he had the last year, made Shawn's grin wider. "I'm not letting you do anything to Tyler."

Revenge hadn't really crossed his mind until Gus had mentioned it. He shook his head and grabbed Gus' hand. "I want to stay-" seeing Gus' mouth start to open in objection, he covered it with their hands. "for one more week. Just one."

"One?" Gus asked, clarifying. He could do one more week provided he didn't get so used to the idea and want Shawn to stay. Seeing the mischievous glint to his eyes, Gus figured that's what Shawn wanted. He kissed him briefly, letting Shawn turn it into a deeper, searching kiss. The room had never felt so warm and comforting in all the time that Gus had lived there.

"Just one. Normal people have their boyfriends from home visit for a while, right?" He supplied, seeing he was winning once again. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for the answer he was expecting.

"Okay. One more week." He let out a huff of breath as Shawn tackled him out of his chair. He felt like the weight had been lifted off one shoulder and shifted entirely to the other. He knew Tyler wasn't going to be happy and he wasn't looking forward to having to tell him. Still, he was Gus' best friend, at least Gus still thought of him that way, and just because he doesn't like Shawn, doesn't mean he can't still hang out with Gus.

He'd tell him. First thing tomorrow. He promised.


End file.
